


Mythology, Huh?

by bibliosoph



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Greek god au, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliosoph/pseuds/bibliosoph
Summary: As the ruler of the Underworld, Henry has grown accustomed to isolation. Still, though, his heart aches to be loved and to love another––to find someone to give his heart to who will give him their own in return. For centuries now, he's been convinced that no one will ever love him and that he is, simply, unloveable. Who would want to be with the god of death?Alex, the god of spring, might have some ideas.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 162
Kudos: 141





	1. The Boy in the Clearing

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! I blame Lore Olympus and [Kathleen's awesome fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777131/chapters/65321032) for whatever this is. 
> 
> As always, come scream at me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)

The Underworld looks the same at all times of the day and night––always cool and grey and dark. It’s impossible to tell what time it is based on the sky because the sun never shines down here––not that he would want it to, anyway. The gentle flickering of the streetlamps, always burning, provide enough light for the citizens to get from place to place comfortably. Today, there’s a bit of a drizzle that pools as small puddles in the divots of the cracked pavement. Here, the rain is more common than not. Lightning frequently tears through the sky here, too, when Philip is feeling especially perturbed with his unruly little brother which, of course, is most of the time. It’s not like his little brother is all too thrilled with him, either, but he doesn’t have lightning bolts at his disposal. Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly pissed off with Philip, Henry will dawn the Helm of Darkness and go to Olympus to mess with his brother. Usually, he just knocks things over and makes him think that he’s being haunted. 

There’s a rustle of the sheets beside him. He turns, his steaming cup of tea in hand, and watches as Matthew blinks awake, his eyes adjusting to the soft light from the fireplace opposite the bed. Matthew does not make any move to touch Henry––he never does. The only time Matthew touches Henry is when there’s the promise of their two bodies coming together once more. More often than not, when it starts, they’re both drunk and foolish. By the time it’s over, they both regret it. Still, it continues to happen. There is something calming, though, in seeing someone else share his bed. In waking up and not feeling so alone for once. He’s not foolish enough to think that Matthew loves him, but his presence is still comforting sometimes, especially when Henry is feeling particularly melancholy and dramatic. 

He sips his tea while Matthew gets up and starts pulling on his clothes that have been left strewn about the room from the night before. He watches how Matthew’s muscles flex and twist as he bends down to pick up his discarded shirt––he watches the swell of his ass. The firm flesh there that his hands have roamed over a million times by now. 

“I’ll see you around,” Matthew says, dressed and now sliding his shoes back on. 

Henry hums in agreement and takes another sip of his tea, his eyes still on Matthew’s body as he walks to the regal door and opens it. As soon as it opens, Henry hears barking from the hallway. He rolls his eyes. 

“You really need to do something about this creepy-ass dog,” Matthew tells him, tugging David in by his collar and setting him inside the room so he can safely leave Henry’s home.

“He doesn’t like people,” Henry reminds him, patting the now-empty other side of the bed. David, now silent, smiles and hops up, nuzzling into Henry’s side. 

Matthew rolls his eyes. “You’re already repelling,” Matthew tells him from the door, his eyes cruel and unforgiving. “You don’t need the dog to scare people off.” 

Henry nods. “I’ll keep that in mind. Close the door behind you, please.” 

Matthew huffs indignantly and slams the door on his way out. Henry waits until he can no longer hear his pounding footsteps in the hallway before he sets his tea down and pulls David onto his chest, scratching him behind the ears. He smiles softly at the sight of this apparently frightening dog––the dog who is now wagging his tail and sporting a trail of happy drool from the corner of his grinning mouth. 

“Some guard dog you are,” he huffs.

David rolls onto his back, indicating that he wants belly rubs. Henry obliges, reveling in the feeling of his soft, warm fur beneath his hands. Most things are so _cold_ here, but not David. David is always warm and wonderful. 

“Will you ever like any of the men I have over?” 

David pants a bit, his feet flailing as Henry rubs his stomach. He smiles down at him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. He takes another sip of tea before he, regretfully, pulls himself out of bed to get dressed and ready for the day. David whimpers at the loss but Henry presses on, knowing that David will forgive him later when they join Bea in the mortal realm for their biweekly catch-up. It’s the only thing he looks forward to these days, honestly. The feeling of the sun kissing his skin and the grass beneath his feet with good company by his side is the thing that carries him through each day and makes his life slightly less miserable. David quite enjoys these trips, too, because he likes to get friendly with the mortal creatures they encounter on their walks. He may not like any people, but he has an affinity for rabbits and squirrels. He always tries to play with him.

Just as Henry finishes getting dressed, there’s a tap at his window. The curtains are open so he can see exactly who it is––not that it could be anyone else. 

“Percy,” he says, going over to the window to open it for his friend, “what happened to your shirt?”

Percy–– _Pez,_ he prefers––comes in with a big smile and, as Henry has already noted, no shirt. There’s a bag slung around his shoulder, probably full of whatever mail has come for Henry from Olympus today. 

“Lost it in a bet,” Pez explains, dropping onto the floor and walking over to one of the over-sized chairs in front of the fire. “Nymphs, you know?”

Henry joins him in the other chair, making room for when David comes and jumps up onto his lap. David doesn’t mind Pez––he’s probably the only person besides Henry that David can actually tolerate. Still, though, he doesn’t trust Pez enough to go sit on his lap. 

“A few letters for you today,” Pez says, digging through his bag. He produces three letters, all with Henry’s name written across them. One is from Philip, as evident from the golden lightning bolt seal on the back, one is from the vet, and one is from Aphrodite it seems, based on the pink envelope and the floral fragrance emanating from it. He cringes at the letter and passes it to Pez. 

Pez smells it and giggles. “Should we at least see what she’s written this time?” 

Henry shakes his head and takes it back, throwing it in the fireplace. There’s something cathartic about watching the flames devour the wretched thing. “She’s probably asking me, once again, if I would care to accompany her to some event or another as her date. Maybe she even wrote me another terrible poem.” 

“I think it’s cute that she likes you,” Pez says, reaching out to the coffee table and grabbing a handful of pomegranate seeds. He plops them into his mouth and practically moans at the flavor bursting on his tongue. 

“She doesn’t _like_ me,” Henry huffs, grabbing a few for himself, too. “She just wants to have sex with me. Cross it off her bucket list.”

“Well, you _are_ still the mysterious hottie,” Pez laughs. “And you’re single.”

“And gay,” Henry reminds him. 

Pez opens his mouth but then closes it again, frowning instead. He looks around the room and then back to Henry with disappointment lurking in his eyes. “Hen, was he here again?” 

Henry feels his cheeks flush. He looks away, popping some pomegranate seeds into his mouth so he doesn’t say anything. 

“ _Henry_ ,” Pez admonishes, “why? You know he doesn’t care for you.” 

“I don’t care for him much, either,” Henry reminds him. He looks down at his empty hands and clenches them into fists for a moment before releasing them again. “It’s not like I could do any better, though.”

Pez’s frown deepens. “You know that’s not true.” 

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’m the god of death,” he sighs. “Who could ever love me? I just…I _repel_ them. All of them.” 

It’s true. It’s always _been_ true. Since the moment Philip freed him, he’s been tainted. Banished to the Underworld and forced to spend his time with the dead. There aren’t enough colognes in any realm to mask the scent of death that looms over him like a fog. There’s no way to hide his eyes which sparkle the same blue as the River Styx. There’s no way anyone could look at his hair, the same color of the sands that fill the beach where souls go upon their arrival, and want to reach out and touch it. Touch death itself. No one in their right mind could ever truly love him––no one would want to give their heart to the King of the Underworld. He’s practically unwelcome in Olympus––he’s never invited to the parties or the gatherings there. No one ever wants the scent of death around when they’re supposed to be having fun.

“You’re beautiful, Hen,” Pez tells him, his voice soft and gentle. 

“To look at,” Henry hisses, “but not to love. Not to _know_.” 

He’s supposed to be alluring––he’s supposed to draw people in from a distance. No soul would ever find him if he was not attractive. But the whole thing about being the god of death is that whatever lure or attractiveness he has is only skin-deep. When you get to close, his blue eyes are the River Styx. His hair the sands of the beach. His smile the color of souls. His scent death itself. So, yes, he’s handsome. But he’s not even really beautiful––it’s all an elaborate way to get mortals to come seek him out when they’ve died. To draw them in and then keep them here for the rest of eternity. 

“I know you,” Pez reminds him, “and I still think you’re beautiful.”

Henry bites his lip and stands up, holding David close to his chest. “I have to go,” he says, not looking at his friend. 

“H––”

“I have to meet Bea in the mortal realm. It’s…we’re scheduled to meet today.” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Pez hang his head. This is an argument they’ve had many times before and one that Henry does not plan on losing any time soon. He’s been alive for centuries now––he knows what he is to the rest of the world. He knows his place and his limitations. 

Pez leaves him shortly after, giving him a fierce hug and saying he’ll see him soon. Once he’s gone, Henry gets David’s leash and, together, they walk across familiar streets until they reach the River Styx where, as it has been every two weeks at this time, Shaan is waiting for him. Henry produces a gold coin from his pocket and hands it to him before stepping onto the small boat that Shaan will take upstream to the entrance of the Underworld itself. David settles in Henry’s lap as the boat lurches and slowly starts to make its way upstream. 

“It’s a warm, sunny day today, sir,” Shaan tells him as he rows. 

Henry crinkles his nose––he’s never loved the sun. He much prefers it when it’s a bit overcast and cloudy. “Shame,” he mumbles. “David will probably like it, though. He likes tanning.” 

Shaan chuckles and continues to row the boat. Henry watches the city float by––the homes and buildings that he helped create all those years ago. It’s changed a bit since then, of course, but it still reminds him of the first day he came to this realm with David in his arms and absolutely no idea what he was doing. It had been an upsetting day, of course, when he was banished here. He would have much preferred one of the other realms––the sea or the sky. But it was a random assignment––all three of them put their names into a bowl and were given a realm completely at random. Sometimes, in his nightmares, he still hears Philip’s voice telling him that this realm would be his. Bea had already received the sea and it was just his rotten luck that he got stuck with the gloomiest place in all the world.

When he gets off the boat at the beach, he passes the souls waiting to get on and those who will likely not board for a while––the ones without the coin needed to cross. He’s already dressed in his moral-wear, a chiton and sandals, so the souls have no reason to believe that he is not simply one of them. He passes through the crowd, holding David tight to his chest, and walks into the water. There’s the normal blinding light and then, suddenly, he’s standing in the mouth of the cave that he’s stood in thousands of times before. He sets David down on the ground and, together, they walk into the harsh, blinding sunlight of the mortal realm.

Bea is waiting for him just outside the cave, already transformed into a horse as she does whenever she leaves the sea. Henry smiles at her when he sees her. 

“Hello, Beatrice,” he says. He fondly watches as David jumps on her legs, trying to say hello. He really does love animals. 

“Henry,” she says, eyes twinkling with the color of the sea. “How have you been?” 

They start walking. They don’t go anywhere in particular––they mostly just walk through the fields until they tire from the sun and return to their respective realms for another two weeks. “Good,” he says. He’s never truly known how to answer that question. “Not much work these past two weeks. How about you?” 

Bea’s tail flicks in annoyance. “Overfishing again,” she grumbles. “Maybe had to capsize some ships just so that they’d get the message. No casualties, of course.”

He hums in agreement. “Mortals,” he says, rolling his eyes.

David tugs a bit at the end of the leash and Henry pulls him back, not wanting him to get too far ahead and go cause trouble for some mortals. The paperwork for any sort of incident would surely ruin Henry’s day. 

“I’m glad I don’t have to deal with them every day,” Bea sighs. “I don’t know how you do it.” 

David tugs at the leash again. “David,” Henry warns, “what have I said about causing trouble? Knock it off, will you?” He looks back over at Bea. “It’s not like I really have to deal with them,” he explains, “I just oversee things. The weekly trial day is terrible, yes, but that’s about it.”

David tugs at the leash once more and Henry feels a flash of anger pulse through him. When he looks down to scold him, David’s gone. His eyes widen in horror at the implications. “Fuck,” he mumbles, “do you see him?”

Bea nods and gestures to the left where, if Henry squints, he can see David’s little behind sprinting through the field and into the tall grass beyond it. “Care for a bit of exercise?” 

Bea grins and they take off after him, her going much faster than him due to her extra two legs in this form. When they catch up to him, they hide behind the tall grass and survey the scene before making an entrance.

In a small clearing, a young man with sun-kissed skin and a nest of dark curls sits back on his heels and laughs as he produces what looks like a flower crown from mid-air. His eyes sparkle as he places the crown on top of David’s head, laughing when David surges up to lick his face happily. Henry’s heart clenches in his chest––he’s never been so mesmerized by a mortal before. This young man is the most beautiful thing that Henry has ever seen––carefree and gorgeous with a smile that could blind even Apollo himself. 

“We shouldn’t let him see us,” Henry whispers to his sister, his eyes still focused on the beautiful man with the gorgeous curls and the sparkling brown eyes. His heart feels like it might fly out of his chest. 

“Why not?” Bea asks. “He’s a god.”

Henry turns to her, eyes wide. “You think so, too?” 

She rolls her eyes at him. “No, you lovestruck idiot, he’s _literally_ a god. Can’t you tell?”

Henry focuses on the young man again, watching as he reaches down and hovers a hand over the grass beneath him. Slowly, a red rose grows from the earth. He plucks it and tucks it into David’s collar. 

“What god is he?” Henry asks. “I’ve never seen him before. I would…I would certainly remember seeing him at a function or something.” 

“He’s Ellen’s son,” she whispers in reply, “and raised completely in the mortal realm. I don’t think he’s ever even been to Olympus.” 

Henry raises an eyebrow. “Son of the goddess of agriculture? So, what is he? God of flowers or something? Is that a thing now?” 

“God of spring,” Bea informs him, clearly somehow extremely knowledgeable on the subject. 

Here shudders, stepping back a bit. On instinct, he hides his hands behind his back. Bea watches his face pale and frowns at him. 

“Go say hi,” she says. “He looks friendly.”

Henry shakes his head. “I can’t get close to him,” he murmurs. “He’s the god of spring and I’m the god of death. If I get too close, I could hurt him. Kill his flowers or something. The entire bloody _field_ , maybe.” 

“Don’t be an idiot, Henry. You won’t kill anything by going over there, saying hello, and getting your murderous dog back.” She pauses for a moment. “Why isn’t your murderous dog _him_? Doesn’t he hate everyone?” 

Henry’s brows furrow at the observation. David _does_ hate everyone and yet, somehow, he’s perfectly content with the god of spring. He’s been reduced to an adorable, non-threatening puppy who is currently on his back and seeking belly rubs from this complete stranger. Somewhere in his mind, Henry is thinking that he’s never been more jealous of a fucking _dog_. The thought pushes him to stick his chin out and emerge from the tall grass to introduce himself. 


	2. A King and His Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is very lonely and feels out of place.
> 
> Then he sees the most handsome creature he's ever had the good fortune to lay eyes on.

Summer in the outskirts of Sicily is as beautiful and peaceful as it always is. It’s pleasant days spent in the fields of flowers with the sun kissing your cheeks, the sweet scent of honeysuckle trickling through the breeze, and an endless blue sky with white, fluffy clouds like sheep. For mortals, summer is a great time of joy and happiness found under the bright sky. It’s being with family and running in the fields or forests or even on the beaches. It’s endless possibilities and laughter and light. 

For Alex, though, summer comes and goes with little excitement. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy basking in the warmth of Apollo’s light or playing with the nymphs in thickets and fields and by riverbeds––it’s that, even in summer, he still feels empty. Empty may not be the right word to describe this feeling, but it’s definitely _something_. An ache, perhaps. A lack. A hole that he doesn’t know how to fill. He’s scoured this mortal realm, the realm that raised him with its trees and birds and fertile land, but found nothing to fill the void that lies within himself. He thinks that, perhaps, it has something to do with his role (or lack thereof) in this realm. A seemingly endless feeling of being a misfit and not having a proper place to stand. He gets along with everyone just fine––his mother, the nymphs, the satyrs––but even their good spirits don’t settle him. He’s restless but unsure of what makes him so. He’s anxious about things he does not yet understand. 

It’s hard to find a role here when his mother, Ellen, can do everything he does. She’s skilled in her practices and has tended to the soil and earth long before Alex was even a thought or a twinkle in her eye. When Alex was old enough to understand his gifts and his position, he thought he might be able to be something special. A god created for a purpose. But Ellen could do everything herself and he became a worker only––reduced to nymph duties. It is not as if he holds some important role in this realm. Before he was alive the world still turned and would surely turn still if he vanished one day, never to be seen or heard from again. If he was not here, anymph would surely be more than capable of fulfilling his duties.

Today, on this bright, summer’s day, he sits perched on his windowsill in his room with one leg dangling off the window. He was young when he discovered that immortality truly had no bounds––he revels in being reckless with his body which will, in time, heal any grievous injuries he might sustain from any number of foolish activities. So, he lets his leg dangle from his second-story room in the small cottage he lives in with his mother and Leo, his mother’s love. He lets the sweet summer air kiss his cheeks as he focuses on the array of clay-potted plants set before him. His goal of the day, since he has nothing better to do, is to see just how large he can make a rose. 

A gentle knock at his door causes him to halt his rose-growing activities. He looks up at the door and finds his mother poking her head into his room, eyes quickly looking at the new plants that have emerged since last night. 

“Leo’s making corn chowder,” she tells him, smiling softly. “Do you want to come down for lunch?” 

He shakes his head and his curls rustle with the movement. “I’m good,” he tells her, “but thanks. I might go out later, actually. Maybe with June and Nora.”

His mother likes him to be in the company of the flower nymphs whenever he ventures far from their property. It is not as if she is cruel or strict, though. Alex knows that it comes from a place of care and concern––she has been here long enough to see mortals commit all sorts of heartless acts to people who are different from themselves. And, well, Alex is different from every mortal he’s ever met. The men may wear chitons like he wears, but they are much harder––strong-jawed and stone-eyed. Cold and closed off. Alex is vibrant and friendly––a big hugger. Curious and fearless. The truth is that mortals do not always take to him well because he is so unlike them––he’s a boyish god with an endearing smile and gifts that they do not possess and are thus unable to truly comprehend.

“Okay, sugar,” she says, still smiling. “Be home before dark?” 

He nods. “Yup. Enjoy the chowder.” 

She closes the door, leaving Alex with his thoughts once more. He sighs and sets the rose aside, unable to focus much on any one task today. He hops off the window sill and wanders around his cramped room for a moment, trailing his fingertips across the spines of the books he’s collected over the years. He smiles at the sight of the worn, lovely spines sitting so neatly in his bookcase. A lot of them are about plants and farming, but some of them are love stories. The love stories are his secret addiction––the guilty pleasure he holds most dear. They make him want a love of his own; someone to hold in his arms and give his heart to. Someone who looks past all of his quirks and flaws and loves him completely. 

As he thinks about it, he feels red roses grow in a crown upon his head. He sighs and removes them, setting them on top of the bookcase. Often times he wishes that his emotions did not show like this––he wishes he could be more in control of this powers. It’s embarrassing when he’s around mortals and flowers grow in his hair, and even more embarrassing when they completely give away whatever emotion is lurking under the surface. With the few nymphs he’s been with, always briefly, he finds that his nervousness or adoration are reflected in the flowers that grow on his head. It makes things very difficult when a lover sees exactly how you feel about them.

He opens the door and heads downstairs and then outside to greet the summer’s day. He walks along the stone path that leads from the cottage to the forest, humming softly to himself and helping the plants stand a bit straighter as he passes them. He’s interrupted, though, by two familiar nymphs. 

“Where are you off to?” Nora asks him, twirling a daisy between her fingers. 

“Nowhere,” he sighs, looking at the large stretch of forest in front of them. He knows that, just beyond the forest, there lies a lovely field of tall grasses and pretty flowers. 

“Want some company?” June asks him.

He shakes his head and notes something growing there. He quickly snatches it before the nymphs can see it and, when he takes a look at it in his palm, he sees that it’s a petunia. He rolls his eyes at it. He’s not _that_ annoyed. 

“Be home before dark,” Nora reminds him. He nods and sets off again, still humming to himself as he wanders through the forest. 

While he walks, he notices a snapping branch, likely overloaded by the weight of the nest on top of it. He points a finger at it and wills is stronger so the nest doesn’t fall. The branch listens to him and thickens and straightens itself out so it doesn’t put the sparrows in jeopardy. Alex smiles to himself at the sight of it, happy to hear the sparrows chirp happily once more. 

He wonders how other gods and goddesses do their work. His mother, having raised him here, has taught him the value in doing everything hands-on. His powers have developed to work in a short range. The other gods and goddesses, though, all up in Olympus, never really come down here and get their hands dirty. Philip likes to have some fun on clouds sometimes, but that’s it. Helios pulls the sun, of course, but it’s still from above. Is it strange that the gods all oversee the mortal realm but hardly ever step foot here? Is it strange that Alex has never been to Olympus? He kicks a stray pebble with his sandal as he contemplates this. He’s never even met another god or goddess apart from his mother. Surely that’s a bit strange. 

When he arrives in the field, he finds a clearing and sits down upon the soft, lush earth. With closed eyes and pulsing fingertips, he breathes life back into the flowers and grass around him, willing for beautiful colors and healthy blades. He opens his eyes and sits back on his heels, playing with a blade of grass between his fingertips as he looks up at the sky.

Suddenly, there’s a rustling in the tall grass to his left. He turns and sees a dog emerge from the grass, smiling and wagging its tail. He grins and opens his arms for the dog, letting it come and sit in his lap.

“Hello,” he says, scratching it behind its ears as it wags its tail approvingly. “What’s your name?” 

The dog lifts its head a bit and Alex sees a collar with a tag on it. 

“David?” 

The dog licks his hand.

Alex laughs, reveling in the feeling of this cute creature so happy to see him. “Would you like a flower crown?”

The dog, of course, says nothing in reply. Alex thinks about it for a moment before he creates a small crown for the dog––one made of daisies and yellow roses. He sets it on the dog’s head. The dog licks his hand again and Alex giggles, deciding that he should also have a flower in his collar. He hovers a hand above the earth and watches as a red rose grows from it. He plucks it and gently places it in David’s collar, smiling at the final product of his work. David, seemingly pleased, rolls over onto his back for belly rubs. Alex obliges, happy to make him happy and to have a bit of company today. 

“Erm, hello,” a voice says. Alex clutches David close to his chest to protect him from whatever mortal has found him. When he looks to the voice, it’s a young man who looks about his age. His eyes are as blue as the endless summer sky and his hair is the color of wheat. His cheeks are pink and he very actively avoids looking at Alex. 

And, well, he is by far the most beautiful mortal that Alex has ever seen. He’s tall and gorgeous and, from the hints of muscle visible under his chiton, he’s in amazing physical shape. Alex wants to run his hands over the muscles on his chest––he wants to plant red roses in his hair. He’s so engrossed in this mortal that he barely even registers the crown of agapanthus sprouting from his head.

“You’re Alex, right?”

Alex nods, still afraid to speak. What if this beautiful mortal wants to hurt him? Well, if he does, Alex thinks he’ll let him. 

“I’m Henry,” the mortal, Henry, says. There’s a slight smile on his lips. 

“Okay,” Alex says, unsure of what else to say. He feels his cheeks get hot. 

“It’s just, erm, that’s my dog,” Henry tells him. 

Alex frowns and releases his hold of the dog. The dog runs over to Henry and jumps on his legs, pawing at him happily. “Sorry,” he mumbles, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “I didn’t know. He’s really cute, by the way.” 

Henry chuckles––it’s deep and beautiful. Alex feels more flowers grow on his head. “Thank you,” Henry says, “I agree. Bit of a menace, though.” 

“He’s got a weird name, too,” Alex points out. 

“I named him a long time ago,” Henry says. 

Alex nods. 

“So, um, you’re the god of spring?” 

Alex’s heart starts racing in his chest. He’s never had a mortal come up to him and outright ask him such a thing before––he has no idea how to respond. “I should be going,” he mumbles, starting to stand. He tugs the flowers from his hair and sets them on the ground. 

“Don’t be frightened,” Henry begs, his blue eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not…appealing.” 

Alex cocks his head to the side. “You’re beautiful,” he says before he can stop himself. He cringes at his words and awkwardly clears his throat. 

Henry smiles softly at him. “What, the scent of death doesn’t scare you?” 

Alex frowns and takes a step toward him to inhale his scent. He leans in and closes his eyes, letting Henry’s smell take over his senses completely. “You smell like vanilla,” he hums. “I like it.” 

Henry’s cheeks redden. “You know who I am, right?” 

Alex shakes his head. “Should I?” 

Henry runs a hand through his hair, looking a bit nervous. “No. I mean, most people do.”

“And who are you, Henry?”

“I’m the King of the Underworld,” Henry tells him. 

Alex takes a step back in complete disbelief. “It’s––You’re a _god_? You’re like me?” 

“Certainly not,” Henry chuckles, his eyes bright and brilliant blue. “You bring life. I just…take it away.”

Alex shakes his head. He may not know any gods or goddesses personally, but he’s been taught about them. He knows what they’re each in charge of. “You don’t actually kill anyone,” Alex points out. 

“I suppose that’s true.”

There’s a lull of silence between them when the only thing they can hear is the methodic chirping of the birds and the sweet breeze as it rustles through the clearing. 

“I should probably go,” Henry says, picking David up off the ground and holding him in his arms. 

“Right,” Alex says, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ll, um, see you around?” 

Henry nods and smiles softly. He starts to turn around but then Alex decides that he isn’t ready to see him off yet. With the flowers he plucked from his hair, he fashions a flower crown for Henry. 

“Wait!” he calls, jogging to catch up with him as he heads back to the tall grass. 

Henry turns and cocks his head to the side. Alex grins and places the crown on top of his head. “You’re a king,” he says, “and you need a crown.” 

Henry flushes and looks down. “I––thank you.”

Alex grins at him again. “Any time.”

Henry smiles once more before he turns away and, just like that, he disappears into the grass. 

And Alex is alone once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always, come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry gets home, hoping for some peace, and gets a call about a disturbance on the beach.

They decide to walk back after Henry meets Alex––his head is cloudy to be good company to his sister right now. As soon as he joins her in the tall grass, David in his arms once more, she instantly points out the flower crown upon his head. He doesn’t know what kind of flowers they are, only that they’re beautiful and blue like the sky.

“Seems like he likes you,” she giggles.

He rolls his eyes and they start walking back the way they came, back towards the cave that will allow him once more to enter the Underworld. “I’m sure he would do it for anyone,” he mumbles, wishing it weren’t true. But Alex is a beautiful, happy being––one with sun-kissed cheeks and bright eyes like morning dewdrops. He’s the opposite of everything Henry is and everything he stands for––he’s life itself. So alive, so beautiful. 

“I don’t think so,” she says as they walk. “The blue matches your eyes.” 

He feels his cheeks heat up. “They appeared on his head when he saw me,” he whispers, unsure of what to make of this fact. “He’d never even _met_ another god before. Can you believe it?” 

She shakes her head, her mane billowing a bit in the gentle breeze that tickles the grass. “It must be hard for him,” she offers, “having never gone to Olympus. Never knowing his own realm.” 

“He seemed content enough,” Henry shrugs. 

They walk through the fields until, at last, they return once more to the cave. Henry hugs her, wrapping his arms around her neck. “I’ll see you in two weeks,” he says, trying to hide the sadness and ache he’s already starting to feel. 

“I wish I could come with you,” she says.

“I know. Maybe one day.”

No god or goddess, apart from Henry and Pez, is allowed to enter the Underworld. It was one of Philip’s commands and, of course, it’s not one people really mind. No one, apart from Bea, ever wishes to enter the Underworld. The nymphs from there are used to the cold and the darkness, but gods and goddesses from Olympus would miss the warmth and the sunshine too much to stay down there for long. If he got desperate for company, he supposes he could always have someone eat some pomegranate seeds––that binds them to the Underworld. A month for each seed they consume. He and Pez, of course, don’t have this problem. He’s already bound to the darkest depths of the earth and Pez’s powers enable him to travel anywhere at any time, regardless of any rules in place. And he would never force someone to come to the Underworld or force them to remain there with him. It would be too cruel a punishment. 

They make their goodbyes and Henry, with David still in his arms, heads back into the cave. He walks into the darkness and emerges at the beach, just as he always does. He makes his way through the beach, pushing past the souls there, and finds Shaan waiting for him at the river. He hands him another gold coin, takes a seat, and watches the Underworld pass by. As they make their way to the heart of the city, Henry can’t help but think about Alex. The way his hands conjured flowers from the earth, the way he radiated pure energy and light and life. The way his eyes sparkled even as he looked into the eyes of the god of death itself. No one’s ever looked at him like that before––no one’s ever looked at him like he has some kind of real value in this world. It warms the ice that has long since settled in his heart and makes his cheeks flush. 

The sad truth is that he’ll never be able to see Alex again. The god of spring has no place in Henry’s life, even if he wishes that weren’t true. It was a miracle that Henry’s presence didn’t injure the sweet god or halt his powers. People who bring life often can’t be around Henry much before they feel ill and powerless. But the god of spring was different––he’s different than anyone Henry has ever met before. And, not for the first time, he wishes that he could be different, too. More alive. 

As soon as he gets home, he changes back into his normal clothing––a button-down and sensible pants. Carefully, he removes the flower crown and sets it next to his bed, wondering how long it will stay alive down here. He hopes it doesn’t die right away––it really is a beautiful crown. He’d like to hang onto it for as long as possible. 

He goes to his office to see what sorts of things he has on the docket today. It’s the same as it usually is, it seems––going through the files of the newest mortals down here to prep for their trials coming in the next few days. It’s tedious, boring work and he hates it, but at least it takes his mind off of Alex. 

A few minutes later, the phone rings. He huffs and picks it up, holding the receiver to his ear. “What?” 

“There’s a problem at the beach, Your Highness,” his assistant tells him over the phone. She’s actually quite sweet but he hates to be disturbed on his off days. 

He sighs. “What kind of problem?” 

“A disturbance, Your Highness,” she tells him. “We’re not quite sure but, um, they’re going crazy over something. We don’t have a visual.” 

“I’ll be right there,” he groans. He hangs up the phone and goes to his closet to grab his godly clothing––it’s the outfit that the mortals expect to see him in. The dark linens that make them fear him. He grabs his scepter, too, which he never really uses these days, and heads back to the beach. 

When he arrives, it’s pure chaos. Normally, the souls just sort of moan and complain about being here or being stuck on the beach, but today they’re all riled up. He doesn’t understand what set them off––he passed through them less than an hour ago and everything was fine. There’s certainly something wrong, though, because they’re all huddled right at the shoreline and, from the looks of it, trying to attack something. Henry slams his scepter down on the sand and they all turn to face him. He raises it in the air and points it at the group, rendering them immobile while he gets to the bottom of this issue. He shoves past them, pushing them out of his way and onto the sand, until he can see what’s going on. There’s movement by the water, which shouldn’t be possible since all of the souls should be frozen. He narrows his eyes, perturbed by this annoying disturbance, and raises his scepter in anticipation of finding some sort of foul creature at the heart of this chaos. When he gets closer, though, he sees that it’s not a foul creature at all. 

It’s _Alex_. He’s sitting on the sand, still in his chiton, and his eyes are big and terrified. There are marks and cuts all over him from the souls. Henry’s breath hitches in his throat at the sight of this beautiful man on the ground and feels his stomach churn a bit at the thought that he might be seriously injured. He drops his scepter and rushes over to him, reaching out to touch him before he remembers that he shouldn’t. Awkwardly, he crouches by Alex as his eyes scan his body for any signs of serious injury. 

“Are you okay?” he asks him, resisting the urge to brush a stray curl back behind his ear. 

“You changed your clothes,” Alex notes. 

Henry feels his cheeks redden, suddenly remembering how vile he must look. He swallows a lump in his throat and presses on. “Yes, well, I have to sometimes. Can you stand?” 

Alex nods and tries to stand, nearly crumpling over when he does. Henry retrieves his scepter and hands it to him, making sure their fingers don’t brush, and gestures for him to use it as a cane. Alex smiles softly at him and accepts it, leaning heavily onto it as he attempts to remain upright. 

“Thanks,” he says, a bit breathless. “I tried to fight them off but my powers don’t seem to work here.”

“Of course not,” Henry snaps. He clears his throat. “I mean…why are you even here? No gods come here. It’s forbidden.” 

“You come here,” Alex tells him, his chin out. 

Henry starts walking to the river, away from the beach, and Alex walks with him to the best of his ability, still limping as they make their way through the sand and the immobile souls. “I’m the King of the Underworld,” Henry reminds him, “so it’s _my_ realm. You shouldn’t be here. I’ve never––no one’s allowed to be here.” 

Alex shrugs. “Well, I’m already here. Also, I didn’t know about any rules. I just followed you into the cave and wound up here.”

Henry looks over at him––at those bright, glistening eyes and he looks around at his surroundings. He doesn’t know what to do now that Alex is here––he’s never had this issue before. Philip would say that Alex should likely be punished for breaking the rules, but, to Alex’s credit, it seems like he really had no idea he wasn’t allowed to be here. Henry supposes that he should turn Alex in, just hand him over to Philip for disobeying the law, but he knows that he won’t be doing that. How could he ever hurt such a beautiful man? How could he lay a finger on such a kind spirit? He supposes he just won’t tell Philip about this. And he supposes that he’ll have to convince Alex not to tell anyone about it, either. Ellen would probably be _livid_ if she knew. 

Alex remains silent as they walk the rest of the way up to the river, still looking around in awe. When they approach Shaan, he gives Henry a disapproving stare. 

“Back to the city, please,” he says, handing Shaan two gold coins. 

Shaan looks at Alex, the life radiating off of him, and purses his lips together. “Sir, you know––”

“I _said_ ,” Henry growls, his eyes darkening, “to the city.” 

Shaan nods and looks away, preparing the boat for the trip. Henry turns to face Alex and offers him a hand into the boat. Alex steps into it, nearly falling over, but manages to take a seat. Wordlessly, Shaan starts to take them to the city. 

“So,” Alex says, “this is the Underworld?” 

Henry nods. “Not what you pictured?” 

“Definitely not,” Alex chuckles, his laughter like golden honey and fucking sunshine. “It’s a lot prettier than I thought it would be.” 

Henry flushes at the compliment––no one has ever called it pretty before. “You really think so? Not too…dark and morose?”

Alex shrugs noncommittally. “I dunno. It’s all blue and grey. I like it. You should have more trees, though. Or, like, any trees.” 

Henry chuckles a bit at that. “Plants can’t grow here,” he explains. “Can’t really sustain life in the realm of the dead.” 

Alex doesn’t reply, just continues to look out at the city. 

When they get off the boat, Henry leads the way to his home. He holds the door open for Alex, like a true gentleman, and closes it behind them. 

“Nice house,” Alex says, looking around. “Massive.” 

“And lonely,” Henry adds. He gestures for Alex to follow him into the kitchen. Alex does, his eyes still wide as he looks at all of the beautiful, lush furniture that Henry has scattered around the massive home. He opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of nectar, pouring a glass for Alex to help heal him from his injuries. There isn’t too much ichor on him, but he pulls out a washcloth, too. He sets both on the counter. 

“You can wash up with this,” he says, “and drink this to heal up those scratches.”

Alex nods and looks skeptically at the nectar. “What is it?” 

“Nectar,” Henry says, pulling out a bag of tea and setting the kettle to boil. “Haven’t you had it before?” 

Alex shakes his head. “We only use mortal healing techniques,” he explains, taking a sip of the nectar. His face radiates pure bliss after the first sip. “Apparently I’ve been missing out. This shit is _good_.” 

Henry chuckles. “True.”

He leans back on the counter and watches as Alex uses the cloth to clean his wounds that are already starting to heal and disappear. “So, erm, what made you follow me? To the cave, I mean.” 

“I dunno. You’re the first god I’ve ever met and I guess I just wanted to get to know you. Also, you were talking to a horse––that was something I had to see.” 

“It was my sister, actually,” Henry explains. “Bea: goddess of the sea. She transforms into a horse when he’s in the mortal realm because mortals find her true form to be a bit…unsettling, I suppose.”

“Maybe even fishy?” Alex muses, smirking. 

“I suppose.” 

Alex takes another sip of nectar, his eyes still on Henry’s. “So, am I gonna get in trouble or something? The boat man looked pretty pissed off when he saw me.”

The kettle whistles and Henry turns to turn the stone off and pour a cup of tea. “Normally, I’m supposed to tell my brother, Philip, if anyone comes here. It hasn’t happened in centuries, mind you, so I’m sure the punishment would be…severe.”

“Oh,” Alex says, deflating a bit.

Henry shakes his head. “I won’t turn you in, of course. You just can’t tell your mother that you were here.” 

Alex cocks his head to the side. “Why?” 

“Because she doesn’t like how my brother runs things,” he sighs, stirring his tea, “and I’m afraid that means that she doesn’t care for me much, either. Isn’t that why she raised you in the mortal realm? So you could be away from all of us?”

Alex shrugs and takes another sip of the nectar. “I’ve never really asked, honestly. I know that she doesn’t love Olympus and the culture there, I guess, but that’s about all I know. She doesn’t let me visit there. 

“I don’t care for it much either, honestly,” Henry smiles. “I prefer the mortal realm to Olympus.” 

“I like it here,” Alex tells him. “It’s always so _bright_ in the mortal realm. It’s calmer here.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

Alex smiles softly and finishes the last of the nectar. “You’re gonna send me back home, aren’t you?” 

“Afraid so,” Henry admits, wishing more than anything that Alex could stay here with him. “I come back to the mortal realm every two weeks, though. Perhaps I’ll see you there?” 

Alex nods. “Can you bring the dog, though? That’s actually the reason I followed you here.” 

Henry feels his heart sink. “Oh,” he breathes, trying to hide the emotion in his voice, “of course. Right.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m messing with you, man.” 

Henry’s eyes widen. 

“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks pink, “you probably have a fancy title or something, right? What am I supposed to call you?”

“Technically,” Henry grins, “you should call me ‘Your Highness.’ I think Henry will do just fine, though.” 

“Whatever you say, _Highness_.” 

Henry rolls his eyes but he’s smiling like an idiot. He sets his teacup down. “Right, well, I should get you home.”

The ride back to the beach is a sad one for Henry because he knows that he won’t be able to see Alex for two whole weeks. For a god, it seems like it should go by quickly, but he knows it will be complete agony. He’ll miss Alex’s company in the meantime and wish that things were different––he’ll wish that he could touch him and kiss him and give his heart to him. But, for the next two weeks, Alex will only exist in Henry’s dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	4. Two Weeks Seems Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex leaves the Underworld behind. The moment he leaves, he feels an ache in his chest––he misses Henry already.

When he leaves, he reaches out to hug Henry. It seems like a pretty normal thing to do––a hug goodbye––but when he moves closer, Henry backs away from him. He frowns but says nothing of it, not wanting to upset him, and leaves without another word. 

Alex hates that he has to return to the mortal realm and not see Henry for two fucking weeks. He hates that Henry is alone in the Underworld, probably miserable, and that there isn’t a single thing Alex can do to make it better. While he doesn’t know much about Henry personally, he knows emotions. He saw the way Henry’s eyes lit up at him––the way his cheeks flushed. Even though Henry sent him away, Alex thinks that Henry likes him, too. That he wants to be friends just like Alex does. And Alex _desperately_ wants to be friends with him. While the nymphs are great, especially June and Nora, he feels empty most of the time. The only other god or goddess he’s known is his own mother and, like most parent and child relationships, they have things they like to keep private from each other. Alex doesn’t tell her everything going on his life, though nothing has really gone on until today, and he knows that he can’t ask her every single question he yearns to ask her. 

But Henry is a god like him. A _king_ of gods, in fact. One of the big three. And Alex wants to get to know him and he wants to ask him the questions burning in his mind. He wants to know more about the Underworld and why Henry doesn’t seem to like it there––why he’s so lonely. He wants to ask about Henry’s sister, Bea, who can transform into a horse. Does that mean Henry can transform, too? Can Alex? From his knowledge from history books and lessons from his mother, he knows that Henry has been around for a long time. He may look about Alex’s age, but he’s seen civilizations rise and fall just like Ellen has. Alex is still new––he’s only twenty-two. There’s still so much he doesn’t know about himself or the realms or the gods and he feels like, somehow, Henry is an answer. 

He wanders through familiar fields, not surprised to see blue flowers spring up as he walks. He’s got Henry on the brain, he supposes. Those blue eyes the color of summer skies. 

“You look lost in thought,” Nora says, shifting from a tree and into her mortal form. 

Alex nearly has a heart attack. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even think to look for any nymphs. “Jesus,” he mumbles, begonias sprouting in his hair, “you scared me.” He plucks them and drops them to the ground, knowing the earth will take them and use them for something else in due time. 

Nora cackles. There’s a daisy chain around her neck––she and June must have been having a crafting session while Alex was gone. “It’s nearly dark,” Nora tells him, “and you went off alone.” 

“It was fine,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest. “I was just, um, tending to the fields.” 

Nora raises an eyebrow at him. “Right,” she says, totally not believing a single word he just said. “Those blue flowers make complete sense then. Solid explanation.”

He rolls his eyes. He thinks back to Henry’s words––he can’t tell his mother. That doesn’t mean he can’t tell Nora, though. Plus, he’s itching to talk about it. “If I tell you something,” he begins, “will you promise not to tell anyone?” 

Nora grins and nods, clearly excited to hear this. 

He looks around at the trees, to make sure they’re just trees and not more nymphs in disguise. They’re in the clear. “Okay, so, I kind of…met someone.” 

Nora squeals in delight. “Who? Another nymph?”

He shakes his head, unable to stop the blush from creeping on his cheeks. “It was a god,” he says, still in shock. “And he was…gods, Nora, he was so beautiful. I’ve never seen one before––are they all like that?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” she replies. “Which one was it? The gods never really come to the mortal realm, especially the fields.” 

“It was Henry,” he says, grinning like an idiot. He feels another batch of agapanthus sprout from his head. He groans in frustration and plucks those, too. Nora looks down at them, now discarded on the ground, and her eyes widen. 

“You met the god of _death_ and now you have a _crush_ on him?” she exclaims, mouth wide and surprised. 

He shakes his head. “Not a crush,” he mumbles. “Just a…fascination?” 

Nora furrows her brow at him. “What did you two even talk about?” 

“His dog, mostly,” Alex says, remembering it all vividly in his mind. The way Henry’s hair looked in the sun, the way his eyes sparkled. More agapanthus grows. He just leaves it this time, making a mental note to pluck it before he returns home. 

“You were gone for a while,” Nora notes. “You talked about his dog the entire time?” 

He fiddles with his hair nervously, tugging a hand through the curls and the flowers. Some of them fall to the ground. “I might have, uh, followed him? I didn’t know he was going to the Underworld or anything. I just wanted to keep talking to him.”

Nora gapes at him. “You went to the fucking _Underworld_? Alex, it’s forbidden! How did you escape?” 

He scrunches his nose at that. “Escape? He just let me leave.”

Nora looks at him like he’s being an idiot. “You’re not seeing him again, right?” 

“He comes back here every two weeks. I’ll see him then.” 

Nora groans and sets her hands on his shoulders, shaking him a bit. “He’s not _good_ , Alex. He’s literally the god of death and you’re the god of spring. Do you understand that you can’t be near him? He’ll kill your powers––you’ll grow weak and sick if you’re around him for too long. Honestly, I’m surprised you even survived being in the Underworld.” 

“I’m immortal, remember?” Alex snaps. He shakes his head. “I just––he was so nice to me, Nora. And he’s _like_ me. And I’ve never…” he hangs his head in defeat. “I’ve never met anyone like me before.” 

When he looks up again, Nora’s face is a bit softer. The shock in her eyes has melted into something else entirely, but he doesn’t know what it is. Sympathy, perhaps? “I get it. I know June and I are only nymphs.”

“You guys are great,” Alex says, meaning it. “Really. It’s just that, like, y’all can’t ever really understand me like he can, you know? He’s…he feels like an answer to something. Like he’ll help me understand who I am.”

Nora stares at him for another moment before sighing and throwing her hands into the air. “Fine, fine. I’ll help you.”

He cocks his head to the side. “I don’t remember asking for help.”

“But you’re getting it,” she grins. She throws an arm around his shoulder and starts guiding him back to the cottage. “There’s no way you can keep seeing him without help. Ellen will get suspicious eventually if you don’t have someone covering for you.” 

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

She squeezes his shoulder. “What else are best friends for?” She pauses for a moment and turns to face him, plucking the flowers from his head and dropping them to the ground. “I’m doing this on one condition.”

He nods eagerly, knowing he’ll accept whatever condition this is.

“I get to meet the dog.” 

He chuckles and pulls her in for a hug, resting his head on her shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Seriously.” 

Nora smiles and, together, the two of them walk the rest of the way to the cottage. As they walk, the sky starts to darken. It’s not nightfall, though, but a storm. Suddenly, the sky opens and rain pours down. A rumble of thunder rolls through the sky and a bolt of lightning tears through the sky not long after. Alex closes his eyes and fashions a flower umbrella for the two of them to share as they sprint back to the cottage in an attempt to outrun the worst of it. 

When they arrive, they’re panting but mostly dry, and the cottage is warm and inviting. There’s the smell of bread wafting in the air. 

“Just in time,” his mother beams, setting the bread down on the kitchen table. “You two get caught in the storm?”

Alex shakes his head and discards the umbrella by the door. “Not really,” he says, taking a seat at the table. “Smells good in here.” 

Leo grins and sits down across from him. “Thanks––it’s sourdough. Your mother made the salad, though. It looks delicious.”

Ellen kisses his cheek and sits down at the table, too. “Nora,” she says, “care to join us for dinner?”

Nora nods and sits down next to Alex. “Thanks, Miss.”

They all start helping themselves to the delicious dinner. The bread is still warm––when Alex puts butter on it, it melts instantly. 

“Is June not joining us?” 

Nora shakes her head and shoves a piece of bread into her mouth. “She’s out visiting a friend at the river.”

Ellen nods and takes a bite of the salad. “So, what did you two do today?” 

Nora holds up the daisy chain around her neck. “Alex helped me make this,” she says, already fulfilling her role of covering for Alex. He smiles at her, immensely grateful to have her in his life. 

“It’s lovely,” Leo smiles. “Why don’t I ever get a daisy chain? I bet I’d look good with one.” 

Ellen smiles at him. Alex, still feeling warm and happy from this wonderful day and his adventures, holds out his hands and creates a daisy chain for Leo, leaning across the table to put it around his neck. 

“No powers at the table, Alex,” Ellen says. She looks down at the daisy chain for a moment and puts a petal between her fingers, her brow furrowed at the sight of it. “Why is it…blue?” 

Nora purses her lips together and stares at Alex, probably wondering how the fuck he’s going to lie his way out of this one. His mind scrambles to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make his mother suspicious. Of course, she probably doesn’t know that the blue tinge to the daisies are the blue of Henry’s eyes, right? Even if she’s met him before, she probably doesn’t have every detail of his face memorized like Alex does. 

“The rain,” Alex provides, hoping she buys it. “It’s probably just the rain.” 

Ellen looks at him for a moment, looking a bit dubious, but she brushes it aside after a moment. She continues asking about their time out in the fields instead, and Alex lets Nora answer while he smiles softly to himself and wishes that two weeks could come a lot fucking sooner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always, come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	5. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry kills everything he touches.

The sun is shining and the birds are chirping happily from their nests amongst the trees. It’s a glorious day in the mortal realm and Henry is more than excited to be a part of it. Two weeks have finally passed and Henry returns to the mortal realm once more to see Bea. When he sees her standing outside the cave, her hair is flowing, a crown of kelp resting on her head. She grins at him and takes him into her arms, squeezing him. She looks stunning––dressed in a sea-foam green chiton with silver sandals. The color of the chiton matches the patches of scales on her, the ones that she’s acquired after living in the sea for so long.

Together the two of them walk the familiar fields until they reach a clearing where, just over the tips of the tall grass, they see Alex sitting in the grass and the sun kissing his face. Bea smiles at Henry knowingly, urging him to go talk to the god of spring, and Henry obliges eagerly. The tries to hide his excitement, though he’s sure he’s failing, as he makes his way over to the beautiful god with the curls that leave Henry’s mind reeling.

He steps out from the tall grass, listening to the whistle of it as he steps through. 

Alex’s brown eyes stare up at him and a smile creeps across his face. “Henry,” he grins, his head titled slightly to the side. 

Henry smiles back at him, still cautious, and sits down next to him in the grass. Alex smiles at him wordlessly and produces one of the same flowers from the crown he gave Henry two weeks ago––the same blue petals and sweet smell. Henry takes it, carefully so their fingers don’t brush, and tucks it behind his ear. 

“I’ve missed you,” Alex tells him, fiddling with the blades of grass, running them through his fingertips.

“And I you,” Henry admits. 

Alex chuckles and lies down on his back, his chiton riding up deliciously on his thighs. It takes all the restraint Henry has to not reach down and touch the smooth skin there; to run his fingers over Alex’s warm skin. He wonders how it would feel to touch it––if Alex wants Henry as badly as Henry does him. 

“It’s a lovely day,” he says, peering down at the gleeful expression on Alex’s face. The reddening of his cheeks, the brightness of his eyes, the _life_ within him. It’s almost too much for Henry to bear.

“It is,” Alex hums in agreement. He turns his head, his curls flopping. “Come join me?” 

Henry bites his lip nervously before he shifts down and lies on his back by Alex’s side. Alex’s head is still rolled in his direction, his eyes big and staring directly into Henry’s. Henry wants to reach out and cup his jaw with his hand––he wants to kiss the pinkness of Alex’s cheeks. If only he could reach out and touch him.

Alex licks his lips, his eyes darting to Henry’s lips as he does. Henry swallows a lump in his throat and looks up at the sky. It’s endless and blue––not a cloud in sight. It truly is a glorious day. 

“You look good out here,” Alex tells him. 

Henry can still feel Alex’s eyes on him. His cheeks flush with the knowledge and the feeling of it. “Do I? Not too out of place?” 

Alex shakes his head––Henry can hear his curls rustle against the grass as he does. “You’re the most beautiful thing here,” Alex whispers. 

Henry can’t help but laugh a bit. He rolls his head over, facing Alex. “Says you,” he smiles. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever _seen_.”

Alex smiles––his eyes are so bright and beautiful. He looks to Henry’s lips again and then back up into his eyes. “Henry,” he whispers, eyes searching Henry’s for some kind of answer, “I’d like to kiss you. If you’ll let me.” 

And, well, who is Henry to refuse a god? 

Slowly, both of them move in until their noses brush. Henry’s breath hitches in his throat and he wills his eyes to stay open until their lips meet so he can take in as much of Alex as he can. His scent, his skin, his eyes, his beautiful lips. When their lips finally meet, it’s soft and hesitant. But Henry has been holding himself back for two weeks now and he’s had _enough_. His arms quickly rush to embrace Alex completely as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into Alex’s mouth. Alex moans at the feeling of it and one of his legs swings over on top of Henry’s, his chiton certainly riding up more with the movement. 

Henry kisses him and kisses him until he realizes that Alex isn’t kissing him back anymore. He pulls away, terrified that he’s done something wrong, and sees that Alex looks pale now. 

“ _Henry_ ,” he croaks, pointing past Henry’s head. Henry turns and sees that the tall grass, once mighty and green, is brown and dead. The flowers have all wilted and start to crumble off their browning stems. Henry gasps, horrified, and turns back to Alex. When he does, Alex’s eyes close and he, too, starts to crumble into dust. 

“No,” Henry cries, tears flowing. His eyes flash. “ _No!_ Alex, come back! _Alex_!”

But it’s too late. 

Alex is gone. 

Henry wakes with a start, his breaths labored and short. He opens his eyes and sees that, miraculously, he’s still in his room. In his bed. David is snoring softly by his side. He checks his clock on the bedside table and finds that it’s the early morning. 

“It was a dream,” he tells himself, head in his hands. He’s sweating––his shirt is completely soaked through. “Just a dream.” 

For a moment, he thinks back to that terrible nightmare and realizes that he should have seen the truth all along. At the beginning of this dream, Bea greeted him in her normal form which, of course, she would never do in real life. He groans, feeling like a fool for believing any of it was real. And then there was Alex who wanted to kiss Henry, not the other way around, and the fact that, during their entire interaction, no flowers grew in Alex’s curls. He curses himself for being such a massive idiot. 

David’s eyes blink open and he stares up at Henry curiously before nuzzling into Henry’s side to soothe him. On instinct, Henry reaches down to give his ears a scratch for being such a good boy. 

“Oh, good,” someone says. 

Henry yelps and sees Pez lurking in his window frame––he left them open last night. 

Pez flies into the room and lands by Henry’s bed, cocking his head to the side as he looks at the miserable state that Henry’s in. 

“You look like a proper mess, Hen,” he says. 

“Thank you.”

Pez rolls his eyes and fetches a clean shirt from one of Henry’s drawers, tossing it to him. Henry removes the sweat-soaked one and slides the new one over his head.

“Was it a nightmare?” Pez asks.

“Yes,” Henry mumbles, unwilling to lie to his best friend. 

Pez frowns and sits on the side of Henry’s bed, his feet dangling over the carpet. “Want to tell your Auntie Pezza about it? Was it the stomach one again?” 

Henry shakes his head. “No, a different one. I…I killed someone.” 

Pez’s eyes widen. “What? _You_? Was it Matthew?”

He shakes his head again. He doesn’t know how to begin to explain this to Pez. Should he even tell him? Theoretically, Pez could turn both him and Alex in for breaking the rules. Henry contemplates it for a moment before he decides that Pez would never do that to him. 

“It was Alex, actually.”

For a moment, Pez looks confused. Then his face erupts into an eager smile. “Oh, the god of spring? Have you met him?” He gasps. “Oh my _gods_ , you met him when you went to the mortal realm yesterday, didn’t you? And you saw his beautiful curls and his warm eyes and now you’re totally head over heels for him, aren’t you?”

Henry groans and tries to sink beneath the blankets but Pez quickly rips them back, making David growl at him. “I don’t want to talk about,” Henry sighs. 

“But we are,” Pez says. “Your Auntie Pezza wants to hear _all_ the sordid details.”

Henry glares at him. “How do you even know him? He said he’s never met another god before.” 

“I’ve seen him from above,” Pez explains. “You know, when I perform my duties in the mortal realm. He’s _beautiful_. Oh, Henry, this is perfect! You finally like a nice, decent god instead of a garbage nymph.”

“I don’t _like_ him,” Henry grumbles, folding his arms across his chest and sticking his chin out. 

“Oh, are we playing a game? I’ll play along.” Pez clears his throat. “You’re right, babes. You totally _don’t_ like him. Wink.” 

Henry grabs a pillow and hits him with it. Pez laughs and bats it away. “You’re insufferable.” 

“Yes, but you love it,” Pez agrees, kissing his cheek. He leans back on his heels and drums his fingertips against his thighs in excitement. “So, what happened? Did you kiss? Have––”

“Nothing happened,” Henry interrupts, his face heating up with the implications of where Pez might be going with that. “We just…talked, I suppose. And, erm, might have broken a law.” 

Pez’s eyes widen. “The scandal! What law?” 

Henry fiddles with the sheet and avoids looking at his friend. “The one about other gods coming here,” he murmurs, hoping Pez hasn’t heard him.

Pez gasps. “He _came_ here? Henry!”

“I know,” Henry huffs, rolling his eyes and flopping back against the pillows dramatically. He digs the palms of his hands into his eyes. “I _know_ , Pez. But he _followed_ me here. What was I supposed to do? Turn him in so Philip could have his way with him? Make an example of him?” He sighs. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Pez rubs soothing circles on his back. “I know, darling. I just worry about you––your brother has quite the temper.” 

Henry scoffs. 

“So, I’ll make a deal with you.”

Henry’s eyes widen. 

“I’ll help you keep seeing him wherever you’d like––here or in the mortal realm––on one condition.” 

Henry nods eagerly, knowing he’ll accept whatever condition this is.

“I get to meet him.” 

“Yes,” Henry breathes, grinning like an idiot. He pulls Pez in for a hug, burying his head in the crook of his neck. “Of course. I–– _thank_ you. Truly.”

They pull away and Pez smiles at him, his eyes warm and soft. “Of course, darling. Now, tell me absolutely _everything_.” 

So Henry tells him about seeing Alex for the first time. He tells him about how _alive_ Alex looked in the field and how everything about him was so beautiful that Henry thought he couldn’t possibly be real. He tells him about the flowers that grew from his head––he shows Pez the crown that’s still next to his bed. They talk for hours, mostly about how absolutely stunning Alex is and how Pez is so happy for him to have found someone halfway decent. But, when Henry tells him about the nightmare, his stomach is in knots and all of the happiness leaves his body in an instant. 

Pez, the amazing god that he is, holds Henry while he cries and runs soft fingers through his hair. 

“You won’t hurt him,” Pez tells him.

“How can you be sure?” Henry sniffs, probably sounding pathetic. 

“Just look at that flower crown, Hen. You know life cannot be sustained here and, yet…”

Henry looks over at the crown, still intact and alive and beautiful. “I haven’t killed it.” 

Pez nods and wipes tears from Henry’s cheeks. “I think, somehow, this could work. I think the Fates brought you together for a reason. Maybe he’s your other half––the life to your death, the sun to your moon.”

Henry smiles at the thought, hoping it can be true. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always, come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	6. Flowers In Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks finally go by and Alex is once more reunited with Henry.

Two weeks has felt like a fucking lifetime. For the first few days, Alex really tried to occupy his mind with other things. In an effort to distract himself from thoughts of a certain blue-eyed, blond-haired god, he spent most of his time in the fields with Nora and June, focusing on growing things instead of Henry’s stupidly blue eyes. By the end of the first week, though, he’s too excited to sit still or focus much on anything. So, for the second week, his attention fluctuates between various activities. Sometimes he hangs out in the fields. Sometimes he holes himself up in his room and read. One afternoon, the day before he sees Henry again, June and Nora suggest candle-making. Together, then three of them use different flowers to make all sorts of beautiful, fragrant candles. Using some forget-me-nots and daisies, Alex makes a candle to give to Henry. 

When the next day rolls around, Alex makes his way to the clearing with the candle tucked safely in his arms. Nora, still eager to meet David, will come by in a bit but, first, Alex wants some alone time with Henry. 

He sits down, setting the candle in his lap, and fiddles with the grass while he waits. In all honesty, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous or excited for something. A part of him is a bit worried that Henry won’t show up––maybe he’ll forget, maybe he doesn’t want to see Alex again. The thoughts make Alex’s head buzz and his stomach churn. This fear causes a ring of aspens to grow from his head. He groans and plucks them, dropping them in the grass and hoping Henry doesn’t know what they mean. He’s not _scared_ ––he doesn’t get scared. He’s immortal; a _god_. He shouldn’t get scared. 

There’s a rustling. He turns and sees Henry emerge from the tall grass once more, dressed once again in his chiton and with David in his arms. Alex can’t hope to hide the smile that spreads across his face, nor can he hope to stop the growth of white camellias that sprout as soon as Henry is in his view. He doesn’t even try to pluck them out––he’s too happy and swept up in seeing Henry again to mind much. 

“Hi,” he says, grinning up at the blue-eyed god as he steps into the grassy clearing.

His features are riddled with nervousness, a crease between his brows gives his emotions away. Alex fights the urge to reach out and softly smooth over the crease with the pads of his thumbs. Instead, he gestures for Henry to sit down next to him. He sets David on the ground and he instantly rushes over to Alex, licking his face before settling in his lap.

“Hello,” Henry says as he carefully sits down, sitting a good distance away from Alex. 

Alex scooches across the grass and holds out the candle. “I made this for you,” he tells him proudly. 

Henry’s cheeks go pink as he looks down at the blue and white candle, the flowers visible through the glass container. “I––Thank you,” he says, carefully taking the candle like he might break it. 

Alex watches him for a moment, totally in awe of the man before him. He has so many questions––he doesn’t know where to begin.

“How have you been?” Henry asks. 

Alex smiles, grateful that Henry started. “Pretty good,” he shrugs, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “I mean, pretty excited to see you again. It was a long two weeks.” 

Henry smiles and nods in agreement. “I agree.”

“Can I ask you something?” 

Henry nods, his eyes searching Alex’s. Alex wonders what he’s hoping to find there––he hopes he finds it. 

“Why did the souls attack me? I mean, they didn’t attack you.”

Henry sucks in a shaky breath and runs his fingers through his hair, averting Alex’s gaze. “I suppose it’s because they sensed the life in you. I’m not half as alive as you are so I’m not interesting to them.”

“I bet you’re interesting to everyone,” Alex says. He goes to elbow Henry’s side playfully but Henry moves away from him, putting more space between them. It hurts Alex’s feelings for a moment before he remembers that Henry probably just isn’t use to close contact with people, being so alone all the time. He shakes off the feeling. 

“You’d be surprised,” Henry chuckles. 

A silence passes over them for a moment. Alex has no idea what to say to fill it––his mind is still so full. 

“Can I ask you something else?” 

Henry nods. “You can ask me anything.” 

Alex tries to ignore the way his heart flutters at that. He clears his throat. “I know we’re immortal,” he starts, “but is there any way we can die? Even temporarily? Because we can get hurt, right? Or, at least, _I_ get hurt.” 

Henry frowns a bit and Alex can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Sort of. If you dismember the god and lock their head away separate from their body, they can’t really function. But, as soon as you release the head, it’ll return to the body and the god will be fine.” 

“Did that happen to you?” Alex asks, his voice breaking a bit. It breaks his heart to even fathom that happening to Henry––he’s already so lonely and sad. 

“No,” Henry promises him, his blue eyes soft and kind. “I’ve done it before.”

“To who?”

“My grandmother,” Henry whispers, avoiding Alex’s eyes. 

Alex feels a knot form in his throat. “You did it to your own family? Why?”

Henry’s hands clench into fists as he sucks in a deep, uneasy breath. “I don’t––”

Alex reaches out for his hand, to take it in his own in an effort to soothe him, but Henry pulls his hand into his lap, effectively telling Alex to fuck off. Much to his dismay, he feels something else start to grow in his hair: dead leaves. His eyes start to water and he pulls the flowers and leaves from his hair, sniffling a bit. He’s trying desperately not to cry but he’s kind of failing because his eyes are still teary. When he looks back over at Henry, he looks horrified. 

“I’m sorry,” Henry tells him, his voice gentle, “really. It’s just…I’ve never really talked about it before.” 

Alex wipes furiously at his eyes. “It’s fine,” he mumbles. 

Henry bites his lip. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just hard for me to talk about. Maybe one day?”

Alex nods. “Okay.” 

Henry smiles softly and looks up at the sky, his blond hair rustling in the gentle breeze that passes through the clearing. “Can I ask _you_ something?” 

“Anything,” Alex says. Unlike Henry, he means it. 

“The flowers and things that grow in your hair,” he starts, “why does that happen?”

Embarrassed, he fiddles with the dead leaves on the ground to give himself something else to focus on. “It’s, uh, connected to my emotions. They each have a meaning.” 

“What were those two?” he asks, gesturing to the pile of flowers that have appeared on Alex’s head since Henry came through the clearing. 

“White camellias,” Alex says, pointing to them, “which is, like, adoration, I guess.” He tries to hide his reddening cheeks and purposefully looks away from Henry’s soft, smug smile.“And dead leaves for sadness.” 

Henry frowns at the last part. “It made you sad when I didn’t tell you?” 

Alex shrugs. “I dunno. I’m pretty open about everything and you’re the first god I’ve met so I thought we could…be honest with each other? I don’t know.”

“I’ll be honest with you about everything,” Henry promises him. “And, one day, when I’m ready to talk about it, we can. I swear it.”

Alex shifts under Henry’s intense gaze. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” he explains. “I know the whole emotional-flower thing can be a lot.” 

“It’s not. I like them––I just wish I knew what they meant. I know nothing about flowers––we don’t have them in the Underworld.” 

“Wait, so you’ve never made a daisy chain?” 

Henry shakes his head, smiling. “Can’t say that I have.” 

Alex grins and moves a bit closer to Henry––not too close, as to respect his apparent boundaries––and lowers a hand to the earth. He closes his eyes and, when he opens them, a patch of daisies sprout from the very spot. Cautiously, he looks up at Henry to see his reaction. His eyes are blown wide but there’s a glisten to them––a hint of awe and softness that makes Alex’s heart melt. 

“Incredible,” he breathes, smiling. 

Alex flushes and picks some of the daisies. He gestures for Henry to do the same but he seems unsure. 

“Just pluck ‘em,” Alex says, rolling his eyes. “It’s fine, I give you permission.” 

Henry swallows. “I’m the god of death,” Henry reminds him, “so what happens if I pick one and this entire field just…wilts?”

“Well it won’t, so. It’s connected to me––this is my field. I’d have to be severely injured for it to wilt. Like, head locked in a box away from my body kind of injured. So, unless you’re planning on doing _that_ , then just pick the goddamn daisy.” 

Henry laughs and Alex feels it rumble through his spine. His arms break out in gooseflesh. 

“Fine,” Henry huffs. He squints down at the daisies and, very slowly and carefully, plucks one. 

Alex gasps, his hand flying to his heart as he grits his teeth in pain. Henry’s eyes widen and he rushes to Alex’s side, his eyes horrified and frantic.

“Gods,” he gasps, “I knew I shouldn’t have––”

“Gotcha!” Alex laughs, sitting normally again. 

Henry is pale and looks slightly nauseous. 

Alex purses his lips together, his eyes bright. 

“I hate you,” Henry finally says, laughing a bit as he returns to his previous spot on the grass. “You nearly gave me a bloody _heart_ attack.”

Alex grins mischievously and blows him a kiss. “You’re welcome. Now pluck another one––the world won’t erupt into chaos.”

Henry rolls his eyes and reaches down to get another one, his eyes narrow and focused on Alex while he does. When Alex remains still and perfectly fine, Henry sighs in relief.

Alex shows him how to make daisy chains. At first, it’s pretty slow-going. Henry keeps breaking the stems or smashing the petals with his thumbs, but pretty soon he gets the hang of it and has a pretty solid looking chain around his neck, his failures discarded on the ground. When his final product is complete, he grins at Alex like this is his best accomplishment. Alex smiles back and holds out his hands, creating a crown of daisies to complete Henry’s look. Carefully, he places the crown on top of Henry’s head and sits back on his heels to admire his handiwork. 

“I proclaim you King of the Daisies,” Alex says. 

Henry laughs.

He looks so alive out here compared to the Underworld, Alex thinks. There’s a gentle flush in his cheeks and a brightness in his eyes. Honestly, he looks so happy out here that Alex can’t imagine why he’d ever want to go back home if he hates it so much.

“I have a question,” Henry tells him after a moment. “If I give you a flower, can you make yourself a crown for me?” 

Alex nods. “Sure, what do you want?”

“Something that means beauty. _Astounding_ beauty.”

Something in Alex’s stomach goes aflutter with that. Arisaemas sprout in his hair. “Maybe a canna lily?” he suggests. “It’s probably one I would use to describe you.” 

“If it means the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Henry whispers, eyes twinkling, “then yes.”

Alex grins and fashions himself a canna lily crown, handing it to Henry. Henry looks at the crown like it’s slighted him. 

Alex rolls his eyes. “You have to put it on me,” he instructs, “otherwise I’m just calling myself beautiful.” 

Henry swallows and places the crown gently on Alex’s head, sliding it over the arisaemas. He’s closer than he’s ever been before––Alex can smell the vanilla on him, the sweet scent of him that he craves to smell more than any flower. He looks up into Henry’s eyes, those sky-blue pupils, and then down at his pink-rose lips that are slightly parted. 

“Henry,” he whispers, moving closer to him. On instinct, his head tilts and his eyes flutter shut. He can feel Henry just a breath away––their lips so close he can practically feel it. 

“I’ve come for the dog!” 

They spring apart from each other, both of their eyes wide. They look to the source of the interruption and find Nora standing in the tall grass with a giant smile on her face. Alex feels monksheads take the place of the arisaemas. He narrows his eyes at her for a moment before looking apologetically to Henry.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “this is my friend, Nora. She promised to cover for me if she could meet David.”

Henry nods and smiles but it’s not half as genuine as the ones Alex has seen on his lips before. “Of course,” he says, tight-lipped, “come on over.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	7. In The Arms of Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They nearly kissed and Henry is losing his shit.
> 
> TW warning for an abusive and bad relationship

They nearly kissed.

They nearly _kissed_.

Henry’s heart is still pulsing in his ears––he doesn’t even really hear what’s going on when Nora steps into the clearing and starts trying to play with David who, of course, is only interested in Alex. 

They nearly kissed.

Their lips had been so close––close enough for Henry to feel Alex’s breath on him. Close enough for Henry to be completely engulfed in Alex’s heavenly, floral scent. His throat is dry, his eyes are unfocused. They nearly kissed and it would have been disastrous if they had. What was he _thinking_? He knows he can’t get too close to Alex or touch him, even if that’s exactly what he wants to do. He knows that, if he touches him, Alex could very well just crumble. Spring and death aren’t compatible––there’s no realm in which this could potentially work. If they had kissed and Alex had been hurt by it, Henry would have felt destroyed. The guiltiest he’s ever been. 

“Henry?” 

It’s a distant voice but it’s familiar. 

“ _Henry_.” 

His eyes snap up and lock with Alex’s who’s looking at him like he’s gone off his rocker. Henry tries to take a calm, steadying breath and compose himself. 

“You okay?” 

He manages a nod. Barely. He looks over at Nora who is still trying her hardest to win David’s affections. “He doesn’t like people,” Henry mutters. 

Alex frowns. “He likes me just fine,” he argues. 

“ _Most_ people.” 

“He’ll grow to love me,” Nora says, making silly faces at David in an attempt to get him to––what? _Laugh_? He’s a bloody _dog_. Henry’s brain is still fuzzy from the near kiss. 

“Hey,” Alex whispers to him, “wanna go on a walk or something? You look like you need to clear your head.” 

Helplessly, Henry nods. 

“Nora,” Alex says, standing, “can you stay here with David? We’re gonna go get some, uh, fresh air.” 

Nora furrows her brows at Alex. “You’re already outside, dumbass.”

Alex shoots her a look that Henry can’t decipher and she just nods and continues trying to play with David. Nora, Henry figures, must be Alex’s Pez. It makes him happy to know that Alex has someone to confide in and trust and love, even if that person can’t ever really be Henry himself. 

Henry lets Alex take the lead, following him through tall grasses and until they reach a small stream that separates field from forest. Alex plops down on the side of the stream, letting his feet touch the clear, flowing water. Henry sits down next to him but doesn’t dare put his feet in the water, unsure that whatever creature or nymph resides over this stream would take kindly to him violating so brazenly. Instead, he watches as the cool water brings Alex some relief from the relentless heat of this summer’s day. 

“Was it the almost kiss?” Alex asks, staring down at the water and not at Henry. 

Henry turns and admires his side profile for a moment, the dimple on his chin, the way his eyelashes fan out as he looks down, the plumpness of his lips. The sight makes his breath hitch in his throat. 

“Yes,” he admits, feeling like a fool.

“I’m sorry,” Alex mumbles, rose-like flowers sprouting in his curls. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You didn’t,” Henry says. “You _couldn’t_. I just––it’s complicated.” 

Alex turns to face him, pulling the flowers from his hair and setting them down in the stream where the water carries them off happily. “Is it one of those things you’ll tell me later?” 

Henry smiles softly at him. “Yes. Maybe.”

Alex chuckles and looks back out at the forest on the other side of the stream, the tall proud trees that reside there, craning up to reach the golden sunlight. Somewhere in the distance, birds chirp and tweet happily. “You’re pretty complicated, you know?” 

“I’m aware,” he replies, fiddling with his thumbs nervously.

Is this the moment where Alex realizes that Henry isn’t worth all of this? Is this the moment where he realizes that Henry isn’t interesting enough or easy enough to know? Knowing and loving Henry is, quite possibly, one of the hardest things someone could attempt to do. The only person to really succeed has been Pez and even that’s been more out of circumstance than some sort of chosen relationship––not that Henry minds, of course. He adores Pez. 

“I want to know you, though,” Alex tells him. “I just wish you’d let your wall down around me sometimes.” 

“I’ll try. It’s just been ages since…I’m not used to talking to people like this.” 

Alex turns to face him completely, pulling his feet out of the water and bringing them up to his chest. “Like what?” 

Henry sighs, not knowing how to begin. Should he give himself away? He did just promise he’d try to be more open; perhaps this is a good place to start. “I know we only met two weeks ago, but I feel like, somehow, we’ve known each other longer.” 

Maybe he’s expecting Alex to be disgusted with him or tell him he’s coming on far too strong, but he doesn’t. Instead, Alex smiles from the corner of his mouth, his eyes twinkling in the golden glow of the sun.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I feel the same way.” 

Henry smiles back at him and laughs a bit, still in complete disbelief that Alex is somehow in is life. What has he ever done to deserve such a kind, beautiful, caring man in his life?

“I don’t want to wait two weeks before seeing you again.”

Henry’s mouth drops open––that’s certainly not what he was expecting to hear.

“I missed you,” Alex admits, “and you missed me, right?” 

Henry nods, unsure of where he’s going with this. 

“If you’re only allowed to come here every two weeks, why don’t I just come and visit you sometimes?” 

“You can’t,” Henry tells him, his heart breaking a bit with the admission. “The Underworld is no place for a god like you.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’ve already been there and I was fine.”

“You were attacked upon your arrival.”

“Whatever,” he smirks, “I’m immortal––it’ll be fine. Unless you don’t want me to visit you?” 

“I do,” Henry says before he can stop himself. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I would love that, really, I just…I worry that you might not thrive down there.” 

“It’s not like I’m thriving here,” Alex argues, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve always felt like there was something _missing_ , you know? Like, I’ve never met another god before and so I had all of these questions and stuff but now you’re here and…I dunno.”

Henry nods but a part of his heart breaks a little bit with the cruel reminder. It’s not that Alex actually likes _him_ ––it’s that Alex has never met another god before. For him, Henry is just someone who can answer his questions and give him whatever god-like answers he seeks, not someone he wants to love or give his heart to. 

“I’ll allow it,” Henry says after a moment, “if you promise to tell me the meaning of each of your flowers.” 

“Fine,” Alex smiles. 

“Starting with the ones you deposited in the stream.”

“Peonies,” Alex says offhandedly, adjusting the canna lily crown on his head. “They’re for, like, bashfulness or shame. Embarrassment, basically.”

Henry nods, thinking back to when they sprouted. When they talked about the kiss. Guilt and shame rumble through his gut––he’s happy his own emotions don’t present themselves. It would be impossible to keep up. 

“Sun’s going down soon,” Alex tells him. “You should probably get back, right?”

Henry nods and stands up. He wants to offer Alex a hand to pull him to his feet but he knows he can’t. He tucks them behind his back instead. “Yes, right. First I’ve got to get David back, though.” 

Alex stands, chuckling. Head thrown back as laughter courses through him. “Let’s hope Nora didn’t kidnap him.” 

He gets David back, despite Nora’s protests, and says his goodbyes before heading to the cave and back to the Underworld. As soon as he takes a seat in Shaan’s boat, he hands him a pouch of gold coins. Shaan raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t say anything, never wanting to speak unless spoken to. The formalities of it all drive Henry wild––he hates that people fear him like this. 

“If Alex should ever return,” Henry says, “I’d like for you to take him to my home. These coins should cover his trips for a long while, but let me know if you’re running low.” 

Shaan looks dubious––the only person people fear more than Henry is Philip––but he pockets the coins and nods. “Yes, sir. Shall I also call your assistant to inform you of his arrival if he should ever come?” 

He shakes his head. “No protocol necessary. Just make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble on the beach, would you?” 

Shaan nods once more and starts rowing Henry back down the river. 

As soon as Henry gets home, he removes the daisy chain and the crown on his head and sets them next to the crown from two weeks ago, the one that is somehow still alive and beautiful. It puzzles him to see that Alex’s flower creations don’t die down here––he’s always been told that nothing can survive in the Underworld. That nothing _should_ survive in the Underworld. 

He shrugs it off and heads into his office while pulling on an oversized hoodie, plopping down on his massive leather chair by his desk. He takes a deep breath and picks ip the phone before dialing his assistant’s number, twirling the cable in his fingers while he waits for her to pick up. 

“Hello, Your Highness,” she says, “what can I do for you?” 

“I’d like every book we have on plants and flower meanings, please.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Books on…flower meanings?” 

“Yes.”

“Sir, I––”

“We have fifteen bookshops in the Underworld,” Henry recalls. “Surely one of them has a book on flower meanings––half of our books are printed and sent in from Olympus.” 

“Yes, sir,” she agrees, hopefully writing down his request. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Thank you, Madeline,” he says. “Pay each shop handsomely for the trouble, and whoever delivers them, too.”

He hangs up and starts going through files again for the weekly trials, wondering how many books Madeline will be able to find for him. 

Two hours later, a young nymph boy comes by with two boxes full of books. Henry grins, tips him, and takes them upstairs to his bedroom. For a moment, he shuffles through the boxes until he finds a thick volume called “Flower Meanings” by Ellen herself. Thinking it will probably be the most reliable source of all of them, he takes it and cozies up in his bed, David resting by his side. As he reads through the book, which is complete with pictures as well as descriptions, he absent-mindedly runs his hands through David’s fur. The subject is fascinating so he quickly flips through the pages, scouring them to see if any of the flowers he’s seen in Alex’s curls have any sort of important meaning that could provide some real insight to his true feelings. He’s so engrossed in the book that he doesn’t hear the doorbell or the footsteps up the stairs. 

“Henry?” 

He drops his book, turning to the closed door of his bedroom and the voice on the other side of it. His heart flutters in his chest as he wonders if, by some miracle, it’s Alex on the other side of the door. David perks up, head tilted, as he stares at Henry with big, curious eyes. Henry smiles down at him and scratches him once behind his ears before he gets up to see who’s lurking on the other side of the door. Grinning, he pulls it open, expecting to find the god of spring in all his glory. 

It’s not Alex––it’s _Matthew_. 

Henry frowns at the sight of him, still dressed for work in a blazer and nice pants, his tie loosened around his neck. His grey eyes are narrow as they look at Henry in his hoodie and sweatpants and he chuckles a bit, folding his arms across his chest. 

“The King of the Underworld,” he says, “in _sweatpants_.” 

Self-consciously, Henry tugs his sweatshirt down a bit and fiddles with the hem. “What are you doing here?” 

Without another word, Matthew pushes his way into Henry’s room. Henry shuts the door and follows him over to the carpeted area by the fireplace, watching as the flames paint Matthew in reds and yellows. While he looks at Matthew, illuminated by the soft light, he can’t help but imagine Alex in his place. Golden hues painting his skin in the most glorious of tones, highlighting his cheekbones and the dimple in his chin. 

“I’m here for what I want,” Matthew tells him, turning to face him once more. 

Henry swallows a lump in his throat. “I’m not––”

Matthew takes a step towards him, eyes hard and unwavering. “I want to fuck you,” Matthew tells him, his teeth glinting in the light. He runs a hand down Henry’s chest, creasing the hoodie. 

“It’s probably not a good idea,” Henry mumbles. “I don’t think we’re… _good_ for each other.” 

Matthew scoffs. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he hisses, a hand going around Henry’s waist and down to the swell of his ass, “do you see anyone else willing to fuck you?”  
Banishing thoughts of dark curls and honey brown eyes from his mind, he shakes his head. 

Matthew’s teeth nip at Henry’s neck and he can’t help but moan at the feeling of someone wanting to touch him like this. He revels in it, his hands going to Matthew’s hair and pulling at then oily strands there.

“Always a slut for me,” he says, biting on a particularly sensitive part of Henry’s neck that makes him writhe and moan in pleasure. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Henry tells him. “Always.” 

With a glint in his eye, Matthew pushes Henry to the bed, waking a sleeping David who sees him and starts barking. Matthew drags David into the bathroom and closes the door before returning and straddling Henry on the bed. 

“You should be thanking me,” Matthew tells him, whispering in his ear. He nips at Henry’s earlobe and Henry hisses. “Do you know how many times I have to shower after we’re together, just to get the stench of _death_ off me?”

He quickly takes off Henry’s hoodie and pinches one of his nipples, making Henry’s back arch as a choked moan escapes his lips. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “Thank you.”

When Matthew fucks him, fast and hard, Henry can’t help but think of dark curls and familiar, shining eyes. Flowers that sprout from those curls and the happiness that shines in those eyes. When he comes, he comes with the whisper of Alex’s name on his lips as his nails dig into Matthew’s back. When he comes, he wishes it was Alex’s hand around him instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	8. Someone to Hold Onto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex likes being in the Underworld. Henry is still fucking terrified.

Two weeks, Alex decides, is too fucking long. So, to remedy this, he starts visiting Henry in the Underworld. The first time he visits, Henry is in his bedroom and reading a book when Alex comes in, happy that Shaan was kind enough to take him here and tell him where Henry would be. He knocks on the door to the bedroom and waits until Henry’s voice comes from the other side of the door and welcomes him in. 

He steps into the room and smiles when he sees Henry sitting in an oversized armchair by the fireplace. Alex’s eyes instantly catch on the flower crowns and the daisy chain sitting on top of a bookshelf and he smiles softly to himself. 

“Oh,” Henry says as he sees Alex, “it’s you.” 

Alex grins and watches as David comes over and paws at his legs, eager to be cuddled. He laughs and scoops him up in his arms, carrying him over to the fire and plopping down in the other chair. “Who else would it be?” 

“No one,” Henry mumbles, setting his book aside. “Would you like some, erm, tea? I just made a pot.” 

“Sure,” Alex says. He watches as Henry reaches over to the coffee table and pours Alex a cup of tea. He hands it to him and smiles before leaning back in his chair once more. “Whatcha reading?” 

Henry’s face turns pink as he attempts to hide the book under his legs. “Nothing.”

“Nah, you have to tell me,” Alex laughs. He takes a sip of his tea while he waits for Henry to tell him. 

“Fine,” he sighs, “it’s a book on flower meanings.”

Alex can’t help but grin at that, loving knowing that Henry probably went out and bought this book to figure out the flowers that grow in Alex’s hair. “That’s cute,” he grins. “What have you learned?” 

He reaches for a bowl of pomegranate seeds on the coffee table, thinking they’ll be pretty tasty.

“A lot,” Henry chuckles. “I didn’t know there were so many types and that they each have meanings. It’s fascinating, truly.” 

Alex nods in agreement and opens his mouth.

“Alex, stop!” 

He freezes, seeds in hand, and stares wide-eyed at Henry who looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

“Put them down,” Henry instructs, his voice firmer than Alex has ever heard it. “Now.” 

Alex puts them down and puts his hands in the air. “Sorry,” he says, “I should have asked.” 

Henry shakes his head. “No I––you can have anything you want, but not those. Never those.”

“Are they…special to you or something?” 

It’s unclear what’s going on in Henry’s head right now, but he looks terrified. More than anything, Alex wants to understand what’s going on––he wants to smooth that line between Henry’s brows. He wants to kiss him and make him smile.

“If you eat them, you’ll be bound to this realm,” Henry explains. “And I cannot think of a worse fate.”

This puzzles Alex. Honestly, being bound here doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. When he’s here, he feels close to Henry. No one tells him what to do and he has no trivial responsibilities. If he could, he’d stay here for weeks on end, just growing closer to Henry and learning what makes him smile and staying away from things that make him sad or scared. It sounds like some kind of dream, honestly, but he doesn’t think he should say any of this out loud. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” Henry says, smiling a bit. “It’s fine. Just…promise me you won’t ever eat those. _Ever_.”

Alex nods. “I promise.” 

They still meet in the mortal realm every two weeks, but it’s always nice to see Henry in the privacy of Henry’s home. Sometimes, they just sit and drink tea by the fire. Sometimes Henry’s friend, Pez, comes in and the three of them sit and play games or talk. It goes on for a two months––two months of getting to know Henry inside and out. Whenever Alex goes home after visiting him, he feels empty and sad. The sky in the mortal realm always reflects this mood with rain and lightning that waits for him as he emerges from the cave on his way home. 

Today, the Underworld is cold so he and Henry are sitting on Henry’s bed, David on the end of the bed, looking at flower meanings. Alex answers Henry’s questions when he has them but otherwise he just smiles at Henry and the excitement across his face as he reads through all of this information. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Henry sets the book aside and nods, his eyes looking a bit panicked. “Of course.”

Alex takes a deep breath, fiddling with the sheets nervously. “Why don’t you ever…touch me?”

Henry’s breath hitches and he freezes. “What?”

Alex clears his throat and avoids Henry’s gaze. “I just…you never touch me. I try to hug you every time we say hello or goodbye and you don’t…sorry. I’m just used to people liking hugs.”

“Oh, Alex,” Henry says, his eyes soft and his voice gentle. This is how Alex likes him best––open and sweet and vulnerable. It melts his heart. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

If they were in the mortal realm, adonis flowers would be springing from his curls right now. “We almost kissed once,” he whispers, voice breaking a bit, “and I thought…if you don’t like me like that, can you just tell me? I don’t want hold out hope for something that’s never going to happen.” 

Henry opens his mouth and then closes it again, obviously unsure of how to approach this. Alex’s stomach churns in fear and embarrassment. 

“I adore you,” Henry tells him, “don’t you know that?”

Alex smiles weakly, his eyes feeling a bit wet. “But you don’t want me?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “ _Gods_ , Alex, of bloody _course_ I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.” 

Alex chews his lip as he tries to process this. If Henry’s wanted him since the beginning, why hasn’t he done anything? They spend so much time together––he’s had plenty of opportunities. “Then why don’t you do anything about it?” 

“I want you,” Henry repeats, “but not this.”

Alex can’t help but scoff. He pulls his limbs closer, folding in on himself in an attempt to make himself take up less room. There are so many emotions running through his head right now but he doesn’t know what to do with any of them or what they mean. All he really knows is that, if Henry reached over and hugged him right now, everything might make a little more sense. 

“You’ve never been around other gods before,” Henry explains softly, “but I have. I know what I can do to gods like you––how I can make them weak. We’re polar opposites, Alex, and there’s no way to know what might happen if I gave in and touched you like I want to. Whenever I want to hold you or kiss you, I always see your beautiful field rotting away. The light in your eyes being instantly snuffed out by my darkness.” 

Alex’s heart hurts for this man. 

How does Henry not know that he’s amazing? How is he so blind? There’s nothing Henry could do to hurt him––doesn’t he see that? When he’s with Henry, he feels indestructible. Henry is beautiful and wonderful and wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone Alex. 

“My powers don’t work here,” Alex reminds him. 

Henry tilts his head in confusion. 

“You can’t hurt me or whatever it is you think will happen,” Alex smiles, “not here.”

“If something happened to you, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

Alex shakes his head and moves closer to him. “Then let me touch you,” he whispers, his eyes searching his for an answer. “ _Please_. I promise I’ll be honest. If it hurts, I’ll stop.”

Henry’s eyes are wide and bluer than Alex has ever seen them.

He can hear the pounding of both of their hearts thumping in tandem. 

“Please?”

Henry nods, his eyes still focused on Alex’s. 

Carefully, Alex reaches out his hand and softly places it on Henry’s chest. He leaves it there for a moment, closing his eyes and listening to his body, waiting for something to happen. Nothing happens. He lets out a sigh in relief and moves his hand up the vastness of Henry’s chest and up he neck until he reaches Henry’s chin. He cups Henry’s face in his hand and marvels at his beauty––his long lashes, his stunning eyes, his mussed hair. He swallows thickly. 

“Henry,” he whispers, “I’m okay.”

Henry’s hand, shaking, moves to brush the curls off of Alex’s forehead. Using his other hand, Alex tries to quell the shaking by setting his hand on top of Henry’s. 

“You’re beautiful,” Alex tells him. 

Their noses are so close––they’re practically touching.

Henry has been rendered mute. 

“Are you still afraid of touching me?” 

Henry nods. 

“Why?” 

“What if I can’t stop?”

Alex smiles softly. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Henry closes his eyes and exhales a shaky breath. 

Then, just like that, they’re kissing.

It’s soft at first––Henry is probably still terrified. Their lips are barely brushing but Alex already wants more. Henry’s lips are soft and pliant beneath his own and he thinks, briefly, that he’s never felt more alive.

“ _Henry_ ,” he whispers, pulling back a bit. 

Henry shakes his head and Alex is terrified that Henry is about to tell him that he hated that kiss and that he wants Alex to leave and never return. 

Instead, Henry surges up and takes Alex by the back of the neck. 

Alex moans as Henry licks into his mouth, Henry’s hands buried in his curls. 

Alex’s hands rub circles on Henry’s hips as he kisses him deeply, eager to take as much as Henry is willing to give him.

“Stop,” Henry gasps.

Alex’s eyes open and he sits up, still straddling him. Henry’s eyes narrow in confusion as he reaches into Alex’s curls and pulls something from them. He opens his clutched fist and shows Alex a flower––it’s pink. Althea.

“Althea,” Henry murmurs, fiddling with the delicate petals. He looks up at Alex, his eyes shining. “Consumed by love, huh?”

Alex rolls his eyes and pushes his chest lightly. “Shut up.” He frowns, realizing that the flowers grew in his hair. “How is that possible? I thought you said my powers would never work down here.” 

Henry frowns. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe I just needed something to plant my roots in,” he smiles.

“Wh––”

“That would be _you_ , you ass.” 

Henry grins a crooked, private grin and surges up to kiss him again. 

Alex loses himself in it completely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also: people suck sometimes. Right now is one of those times grrrrrr


	9. Sweetpeas and Stolen Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, to have sex with the god of spring.

They’re kissing.

Alex is _kissing_ him. 

Henry is reveling in it. 

He gets lost in the slide of Alex’s tongue against his own and the feeling of Alex’s hands on his body––the feeling of his hands on _Alex’s_ body. He’s warm to the touch––so fucking warm––and he smells like the sweetest essence of the earth itself. The curls slide through Henry’s hands like his hands were made to be buried in Alex’s hair.

Alex’s warm fingers find their way under Henry’s shirt and they feel amazing there––Henry arches into the touch. 

“Can I take this off?” Alex mumbles between kisses. 

“Yes,” Henry says, without hesitation. 

Alex grins and pulls back enough to get Henry’s shirt off, pulling it off and over his head. He stares at Henry’s chest for a moment, at the scars there that have formed from centuries of various wars and fights and adventures, and traces them with the gentle pads of his fingers––soft like the petals of a flower. Henry can’t help but shiver at the feeling. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Alex whispers, his breath sweet and warm on Henry’s cheek.

Henry shakes his head. “No,” he says, pulling Alex back in for another kiss, “but you are.” 

Alex pulls away, not letting Henry kiss him. He puts a hand on Henry’s chest, keeping him from kissing him again. “You _are_ ,” Alex tells him. “Seriously, H, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

And, when Alex says it, he nearly believes it. 

He nods and kisses Alex again, working on getting his chiton undone to access the warm skin that lies beneath it.

When he gets it off, all that remains is Alex’s underwear. His arousal is visible––the underwear is tight and hides nothing. He runs his fingers down the hard lines of Alex’s chest, reveling in the feeling of the muscle beneath his fingertips. In reach. 

“Gods,” he breathes, “working in the field keeps you in shape.” 

Alex laughs and throws his head back, his curls bouncing. Henry surges up and kisses his neck––licks a stripe from his collarbone to his chin. Alex moans and clutches Henry, pulling their chests flush together. It’s the closest he’s ever felt to someone, even though they’re not even having sex at the moment. It’s the most intimate he’s ever been and he loves it. He trusts Alex in a way that he’s never trusted anyone before––he trusts him with every part of his body and mind. He trusts him with his heart. Completely. Irreversibly. 

“Can I?” Alex asks, his hands on Henry’s waist band. He nods. “Both?” He nods again. 

Alex kisses him soundly and works Henry’s sweatpants and underwear off, gasping when Henry’s cock spring free; already leaking. Alex stares at it for a moment and Henry is terrified that Alex doesn’t like what he sees.

“I want to put my mouth on this,” Alex tells him. 

Henry has to try very hard to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head at the mere thought of it. His cock twitches eagerly. “Yes,” he pants, “ _please_.”

Alex grins and moves down. Henry moves back until he’s up against the headboard to better accommodate, nearly gone on the sight of Alex on his knees. Alex leaves a trail of kisses on Henry’s thighs, biting a bit and smoothing it over with his tongue. Henry clutches the sheets as he attempts to keep his hips from bucking up into Alex’s touch. Alex smiles at him and, in one swift motion, takes Henry’s cock into his mouth. Henry groans at the feeling––the warm slickness of Alex’s mouth around him, licking the tip of his leaking cock like he lives for precome.

Alex swallows his whole length like this is what his mouth was made to do––like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. Henry threads his fingers into Alex’s curls once more, smiling when lemon grass sprouts in his curls. Henry’s read through the books to know this one off the top of his head. 

Lemon grass: man’s love. Energizing. 

“I love that you grow flowers here now,” Henry pants. 

Alex smiles up at him, his pink lips looking so gorgeous around Henry’s cock that Henry has to close his eyes in order not to come right then and there. “Gods,” he gasps, “I’m close.”

He comes with Alex’s name on his lips, his lips smiling and his hands clenched in Alex’s curls. It’s the best orgasm he’s ever had––it’s the safest he’s ever felt. When Alex surges up to kiss him, Henry tastes the death on his lips. This will be the end––this is where Alex will complain that Henry smells and tastes of death just like everyone else has before him.

“You taste like vanilla,” Alex laughs.

“You keep saying that,” Henry chuckles, tucking a stray curl behind Alex’s ear, “and I don’t know why. I know I smell and taste like death.” 

Alex furrows his brow. “You don’t,” he says. “It’s vanilla, I promise. Believe me, I would know.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Henry smiles, not willing to argue with Alex. If Alex wants to hold him on a pedestal, Henry won’t try to fight him. Not this time.

“Was that good for you?” Alex asks, running a finger down Henry’s chest lazily. 

“Of course. It was bloody fantastic, really. Should I be jealous of whoever made you that good?” 

Alex rolls his eyes and flops onto his back next to Henry, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Honey sticks,” he says, as if that means anything. He must notice Henry’s confusion because he laughs and squeezes his hand. “My mom makes them. They’re like, straws of honey. You suck on them to get the honey out.”

“You’re adorable,” Henry says before he can stop himself. 

Alex flushes and more flowers, pink ones, sprout in his curls. He notices and plucks them out, twirling the stems in his hands. “Ranunculus,” he mumbles.

“Radiant with charms?” 

Alex nods and kisses his cheek. “Someone’s been studying up, huh?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “The guy I like grows flowers in his hair,” he replies, grinning, “so I’ve become a bit interested in the topic, yes.”

“Dork.”

“Indeed.” 

Alex smiles and, like always, it’s infectious. Henry turns and kisses him sweetly, unable to keep away any longer. Alex smiles against his lips, kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it. 

“Okay,” Henry says, pulling away. “I’d like to return the favor.” 

Alex grins and lets Henry make his way down his body, writhing when Henry leaves a trail of kisses and love bites down the expanse of his beautiful chest. Sweetpeas bloom in Alex’s hair and Henry smiles at the sight of them before pulling Alex’s underwear down, eager to get his mouth around Alex’s cock. 

It’s beautiful––not as long as Henry’s, but thick and gorgeous. He puts his mouth on the tip, tasting the precome there. It’s sweet and floral. He loves it. 

It doesn’t take long to make Alex come since he was already worked up and achingly hard, and when he comes, Henry feels something in his hair. He reaches up and finds sweetpeas in his own hair, springing up like they do in Alex’s.

“Fuck,” Alex says, reaching for Henry’s hair, “I’m sorry. I didn’t––”

Henry kisses him, effectively shutting him up. “I love them. Leave them.”

Alex nods a bit helplessly. “Okay.” 

“You amaze me,” Henry whispers. “You’re so powerful––so gorgeous.”

Alex kisses him and nuzzles into his side, slinging one hand across Henry’s chest and resting his head in the crook of Henry’s neck. “I’m glad the Fates brought us together,” Alex tells him. 

Henry feels tears sting his eyes. “So am I.”

Alex smiles and, a few minutes later, falls asleep pressed into Henry’s side. Henry knows that he’ll have to wake him soon, but not yet. Right now, all he has to do is wonder what he did to deserve such a beautiful, thoughtful man––someone who makes him feel loved and safe from the tips of his toes to the petals of the sweetpeas in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	10. Ah, The Wrath of the Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex seems to have pissed someone off.

As always, going home is sad for him. At least, this time, Henry hugs him when he leaves. He does more than that, actually––he pulls Alex into his arms and buries his head in the crook of Alex’s neck, fingers threading through Alex’s curls. 

“I know,” Alex whispers, inhaling the scent of vanilla and sweat. Fuck, goodbyes are hard.

“Stay?”

Alex laughs, trying not to cry. “You’re coming to the mortal realm in two days,” he reminds him. “And you were the one who woke me up to make me leave.” 

He feels Henry shake his head against his neck. “I never want you to leave,” he admits, voice soft and tentative. 

“I never want to leave, either.” 

Henry’s arms tighten around him. 

As much as Alex wants to stay in this moment, he knows he has to go. It’s getting late and, the longer he stays here and warm in Henry’s embrace, the less inclined he’ll feel to ever return to the mortal realm. So, regretfully, he pulls back, standing on his toes to kiss Henry softly.

“I’ll see you in two days,” he whispers.

Henry nods and smiles softly, but his eyes are sad. Alex produces a red rose in his palm and tucks it behind Henry’s ear, leaving his hand there for a moment and reveling in the feeling of Henry’s skin against his own. 

“I’ll escort you back,” Henry offers. 

Alex rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “Don’t make it harder than it already is.” He kisses him one more time. “I’ll see you in two days.” 

When Alex gets home, there’s someone waiting for him outside the mouth of the cave. It’s unexpected––no one is ever here. The sight of someone lurking out here nearly gives him a damn heart attack and, unsurprisingly, he feels mandrakes bloom in his hair. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he murmurs, plucking the mandrakes from his hair and dropping them unceremoniously on the ground. He blinks at June, still trying to figure out why she’s here. 

“So that’s where you’ve been going?” she asks, sounding more upset than Alex thinks she should be. 

He kicks at the dirt and folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah. It’s nice in there, you know? Quiet and––”

“I’m not an idiot, Alex,” she sighs, tugging a tired hand down her face. “You think I don’t know what that cave is?”

He bites his lip nervously. Swallows a lump in his throat. He’s always thought of June as a sort of sister––or, at least, the closest thing he has to a sister. She’s been by his side since day one, always looking out for him and keeping him out of trouble when she could. She protected him when he was young and stupid and the nymphs liked to pick on him––she told people off for picking on him for the flowers on his head.

“Did Nora tell you?”

Her eyes widen. “ _Nora_?” she lets out a coarse laugh. “Nora didn’t tell me anything, Alex. But I’m kind of hurt you trusted her but not me.” 

“You would’ve talked me out of it,” he mumbles, looking down at the dirt. 

“Yeah, probably. But I also would have _helped_ you.”

He stares at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.” 

She sighs and her eyes soften a bit. “Does he make you happy, at least?” 

Alex grins. “Happier than I’ve ever been, honestly. He’s––gods, June, he’s the most amazing guy I’ve ever met.”

June smiles at him, her eyes brighter than they have been during the rest of this conversation. “Of course _you’d_ fall for the King of the Underworld.” 

He opens his mouth to say something when, all of a sudden, the sky opens up and rain pours down in thick, heavy droplets. He and June turn to each other, laughing as the rain drenches them completely. It reminds him of when they were young and would get caught in rainstorms like this and they would have to seek shelter until it passed and the sky was clear again. They had so many wild adventures when they were young––he doesn’t know why they stopped. 

A flash of lightning strikes a tree nearby, sending it up in flames.

They’re not laughing anymore. 

“Fuck,” Alex says, watching the flames grow. They won’t be stopped by the rain––there’s too much fire for the rain to do much to stop it. 

“We need to get back,” June says, tugging on his arm. He nods and pulls his gaze away from the tree and, together, the two of them start sprinting back to the cottage. They sprint across fields, growing more and more scared as the lightning seems to follow them across the grass and flowers. It strikes the tall grass, sending it up in flames. Alex is mesmerized by it, wondering why Philip is so angry today. 

“Come on!” June says, tugging at his arm helplessly. 

He starts to turn back to her when, all of a sudden, he hears a _crack_ and pain erupts through his body. He screams and falls to the ground, writhing in pain. The world is so bright––everything is white and blinding. He makes out, faintly, June’s face hovering above him with panic in her eyes. He gapes at her as he struggles to form words, his back feeling like its on fire like the grass and the tree. 

The sky clears in one swift motion, turning back to blue.

It reminds him of Henry’s eyes.

***

“He’ll be awake soon,” someone says. 

Alex groans.

He’s on his side which is weird––he always sleeps on his back. He tries to roll over but, the moment he does, his back arches off the mattress and he gasps in pain. He opens his eyes and makes out his mother who comes to his side and runs her fingers through his hair in an effort to soothe him. 

“Mom,” he says, trying not to panic, “my back––”

“Shh,” she says, a sad smile tugging on her thin lips, “I know, sugar. I know.” She helps him back onto his side and takes one of his hands in her own, rubbing calming circles on his knuckles. “Do you remember what happened?” 

He shakes his head––it hurts.

“You were struck by lightning,” she reminds him, her voice soft and gentle. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” 

“I’m immortal,” he reminds her.

“I know, but Philip’s bolt is no joke, sugar. If it had been closer…you were very lucky.” 

“Why did he attack me?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sure it was an accident. We’re right near a village––it was probably just meant for them.”

He nods but he thinks that, this time, his mom might be wrong. If Henry is right and Philip doesn’t like people going to the Underworld, maybe he somehow found out about Alex going there and decided to take matters into his own hands. Figures that he’s already managed to piss of the head god without even fucking meeting him. The problem is that he won’t stop seeing Henry, even if Philip is pissed. And he can’t exactly tell Henry about this because he’s pretty sure that Henry will ban him from the Underworld or something just to keep him safe.

“It really hurts,” he whispers, tears stinging his eyes. 

“I know. You’ll be okay soon enough, though. Just get some rest.” 

She kisses his forehead and he’s quickly overcome by his exhaustion. His eyes flutter shut.

When he wakes up again, the sun is shining. He looks out the window and sees that it’s the morning––he must have slept peacefully through the night. He sits up, careful to not put any pressure on his back, and looks around his room. There are flowers all around him––probably gifts from June and Nora. There’s aloe, balm of Gilead, and some carnations. There’s a vase on his bedside table, too, with a note tied around it. He squints at it and sees that they’re feverfews and angrecs. He smiles at them and tugs the note off of the vase, turning it over to find the neatest handwriting he’s ever seen on the other side. 

_A,_

_I wish you a speedy recovery. Come back to me when you can, for I miss you dearly._

_H_

He smiles at the note and tucks it under his pillow so his mother doesn’t find it and ask him questions. 

“Oh,” someone says from the door. He looks up and sees Nora there with June right behind her. “You’re awake.” 

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “How long was I out?” 

“Three days,” June says, taking a seat on his bedside and producing a cloth and a bowl. “We need to clean it again and refresh the aloe paste.”

He nods and rolls onto his stomach, turning his head to look at Nora as she pulls up a chair and sits by his head. “Three days, huh?” 

“Could have been a lot worse,” Nora mumbles. “You’re an idiot.” 

He grins. “Yup. You didn’t tell my mom?” 

She shakes her head, curls bouncing. “I’m not _that_ evil.”

“She even went and met Henry in the field for you,” June explains. “He asked her to give you those.” She gestures to the flowers by his bed.

“You didn’t tell him what happened, did you?” 

“We decided it would be best to leave that part out,” Nora says. “You know, so he doesn’t go to war with Philip or anything. I told him you were just being reckless and had an accident.” 

Alex chuckles but quickly winces as June cleans the wound on his back. 

“Sorry, I know,” she says. “Almost done, though. Promise.” 

He grits his teeth, hissing when June reapplies the aloe paste to his wound. Absentmindedly, he wonders how bad he looks––how long it will take to heal without nectar. It’s probably the worst injury he’s ever had before, which is saying something. 

“Done,” June says, putting the supplies away. He smiles appreciatively and sits up again, his body feeling weak and sore from being in bed for so long. 

“How long until I’m back to normal?” 

“Ellen says a few days until it’s cleared up,” Nora says, “but you should be able to get out of bed and move around a bit tomorrow.” 

He nods, thinking about how he should probably return to the fields and fix the grass from when the lightning set it ablaze. He’ll also need to figure out how to get Philip off his ass but he has absolutely no idea how to do that––Pez might, though. From his few interactions with Pez, he thinks that he might have a few tricks up his sleeve; tricks that might come in handy if one needs to escape the wrath of the King of the Gods. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	11. The Wrath of a Loved One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's nightmares sometimes find him while he's awake.
> 
> TW Matthew (abuse) BUT HE ALSO GETS WHAT HE DESERVES SO !!!!!

Sometimes, when Henry dreams, he dreams of the beginning. 

Untouched fields of green and skies of endless blue––the kind of beauty that he thought would go on forever and ever. They were simpler times, in some ways––the _very_ beginning, at least. He spent his days in the great outdoors with his siblings and they all laughed and played together like children were supposed to do. Bea and Henry had always been closer, though––Philip didn’t like getting dirty like they did. When he and Bea returned home after a day spent in the sun and the breeze and the mud, their parents would laugh and clean them off, smiling at their youth and praising their creativity and sense of adventure. Philip, though, liked to stay inside. He’s always been the type to watch from a distance. 

Sometimes, when Henry dreams, he dreams _only_ of the beginning. Just his mother’s kind eyes and his father’s deep chuckle that could melt even the coldest of chills. He dreams of the happiness he once felt in the world that came before the bloodshed and the horror and the pain. He dreams of warm baths with lavender bubbles and the way that, even from a young age, his heart was so big that it could fit all of the world’s creatures inside of it. Every animal he encountered was soon his friend and the nymphs sang him songs and told him stories while he played in their waters or fields, always happy to make friends. 

Sometimes, when Henry dreams, those dreams turn into nightmares. The nightmares come as quickly in sleep as they did all those years ago––the blue sky churning quickly and turning grey and black as chaos erupted from it and tore his world apart. The way his parents were killed in front of him by his grandmother––the way his grandmother tried to take Bea, too. The way Henry pushed her out of the way and found himself trapped for months in his that Titan’s stomach. The way he felt smaller, then––smaller than he ever had before. 

Sometimes, the nightmares haunt his real life, too. They come in from the darkness and creep up on him when he least expects it. Sometimes, the nightmares come in from the corridor and push open the door to his room without knocking first, taking him by surprise. Today, the nightmare is Matthew himself. Even from across the room, Henry can smell the alcohol on him––he must be filled to the brim with it. 

He stumbles into the room, a wicked, crooked grin playing on his lips. Eyes glinting in the dim lights from the fire. The first thing Henry thinks when he sees him is that he’s so unattractive––his features are sharp, jagged, and unkind. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. 

“Morning,” Matthew slurs, hardly even looking in Henry’s direction as he starts to unbutton his shirt. 

David growls in his lap and Henry puts a hand on him to soothe him and keep him still for a moment, praying he won’t make this worse than it already is. He just wants Matthew to leave––he doesn’t need David to injure him and make him stay. 

“David, go,” he commands, voice sterner than he’d care to admit. 

David’s big eyes stare at him in disbelief and Henry raises an eyebrow. Instantly, David scampers and leaves the room. 

Henry sets his book down on the coffee table and turns his attention completely to Matthew who is already mostly undressed, save for his underwear and socks. “It’s the evening,” he hisses, “and I need you to leave.” 

Matthew stares at him for a moment like Henry is speaking a different language. “Leave? Why would I _leave_?”

Henry’s hands clench into fists as he tries to take a deep breath to calm himself.“I don’t want you anymore,” he says, willing his voice to stay strong. He stands and faces him. “I––You don’t deserve me.” 

Matthew laughs and it’s a cruel, harsh noise––it feels like Henry’s ears have been assaulted by sharpness of it. He winces but tries to stand his ground; tries not to remember how weak he is. Tries not to imagine how it felt to be so small and alone and worthless while he rotted away in his grandmother’s stomach. Instead, he tries to find the strength he once held in his body––he conjures the fond memories of the fields and the skies and his parents looking at him with nothing but pride and love in their eyes. There is strength within him, somewhere––he feels it like a long forgotten power radiating in his finger tips. 

“You don’t deserve _anything_ ,” Matthew spits, approaching him. He’s still stumbling. Vacantly, Henry wonders if he’ll even remember this in the morning.

“I do,” he whispers, trying not to cry as Matthew gets closer and closer––close enough for Henry to see the liquored glaze to his eyes. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m––I’m _more_.” 

Matthew sneers at him and presses him against the mantle of the fireplace. The flames heat Henry’s back and make his brow sweat. It’s too hot––he’s too close. “You are _nothing_ ,” Matthew says, droplets of spit landing on Henry’s face as he says it. 

Henry is shaking––he’s never been more terrified. “I don’t want you,” he cries, unable to stop the tears. “You can’t have me anymore.”

One of Matthew’s hands goes to his waist, digging into his hip. The other pins him against the mantle, trapping him. “I’ll have you,” he spits, “whenever I fucking want you.” 

“No,” he begs. He closes his eyes––he wishes he were stronger. He wishes he were more like Alex. 

He opens his eyes.

_Alex_. 

Alex loves him or, at least, _likes_ him. Alex has seen him in his entirety and has risked it all to keep coming back here––back to Henry. When he’s with Alex, he knows that he is beautiful. He knows that he is capable of love. Alex is––

Alex is _here_. 

Alex is right behind Matthew and, in one swift motion, he tugs Matthew backwards, the two of them just narrowly avoiding the coffee table. Henry watches, still unable to move. Alex pins him against the wall by the windows and big, grey drapes, his eyes flashing in anger. Rhododendrons spring up in his hair as he grits his teeth at Matthew, his chest heaving with anger. Thorns grow from his wrists and tie Matthew in place, the curtain rods acting as some sort of lattice to keep the thorns there and strong.

“ _Alex_ ,” Henry warns, finding the strength to speak, “that’s enough!”

He doesn’t want Alex to kill––not for him. Matthew isn’t worth it. 

Alex looks to him and his eyes soften. He steps back, his chest still heaving. He looks at his hands and at the thorns there, looking horrified. Henry shakes his head and moves towards him, hoping to comfort him in any way that he can. 

“Henry…”

Henry pulls him into a hug, noticing that Alex is shaking in his hands. “I’ve got you,” he promises, inhaling his sweet scent. “I’ve got you, love. You’re okay––you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Just as Alex begins to melt into his touch, Matthew makes his presence known once more. “If you think this… _thing_ ,” Matthew spits, head jerking towards Alex, “actually likes you, you’re stupider than I thought.” 

Alex pulls away from Henry, pushing him behind his back to act like a shield. “Henry is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Alex hisses, “and you should have fucking appreciated him instead of trying to hurt him.” 

Matthew rolls his eyes, his arms bleeding from where the thorns are digging into his skin. “I appreciate him for what is––a nice fuck.”

Henry reaches to grab Alex’s hand and pull him away from Matthew and his taunts, but Alex is practically vibrating. His skin is warm and more flowers are sprouting in his hair. The thorns tighten around Matthew’s arms.

Suddenly, Matthew begins to turn green. His oily hair clumps together and he tries cries out but no noise comes from his lips. Instead, he starts to shrivel. A moment later, he’s gone.

Henry squints at where he used to stand and sees nothing but a mint plant sitting in a tiny, clay pot. He turns to Alex who looks pale and like he might be sick. 

“What did you––”

Alex’s eyes roll back into his head and Henry lunges for him, catching him before he hits the floor. His heart is pounding in his ears––he’s so exhausted and confused and emotional right now that he doesn’t even know where to begin or what to feel. “Alex,” he says, brushing the curls back from Alex’s sweaty forehead, “love, stay with me. _Please_.” 

Alex’s eyes blink open––that beautiful brown that Henry loves so much staring up at him behind heavy lids. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t you dare,” Henry whispers, kissing his forehead. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” 

Weakly, Alex nods. 

Henry feels something in his hair and finds a flower he doesn’t recognize. He holds it carefully in his palm and shows it to Alex. “What’s this?” 

“Tigridia,” Alex smiles. “Protection from cruelty.”

Tears spring to his eyes––happy ones, this time. “You idiot,” he laughs, “you already saved me. Don’t you know that?”

“I’m so tired,” Alex mumbles, his eyes starting to close again. 

Henry shakes his head––he needs to keep him awake. 

Sometimes, when gods overuse their powers, they go into a sort of hibernation to recharge. He’s seen it a few times before over the years and he knows that it can take months or, sometimes, _years_ for gods to wake up again. And he _can’t_ lose Alex––not like this. Not now. 

Using all the strength he can muster, he picks Alex up, one hand under his knees and the other under his head, and carries him downstairs as fast as his legs will carry them. He sprints to the kitchen and shoves everything off the counter with his elbow before he sets Alex down on it. 

“Stay with me,” he pleads, going to the fridge and procuring nectar for him. He doesn’t have time to pour it into a cup––he twists off the top and moves Alex’s head up so he can swallow it. He puts it Alex’s lips and tilts the bottle back, praying that he’s gotten to it soon enough. 

Alex finishes the bottle but doesn’t move. 

His chest isn’t moving.

His eyes are still closed.

Henry’s heart feels like it’s been struck with one of Philip’s bolts as the thought of Alex not waking up begins to look more like a reality. Sobs overtake him and he puts his head on Alex’s chest while he cries, wishing he could have gotten him down here sooner. How long will it take for Alex to heal from this? How long will Henry have to be without him? He just found him––he can’t believe he’s losing him so soon. He didn’t even tell Alex he loved him––he didn’t tell him that he’s the first thing he thinks of when he wakes in the morning and the last thing he thinks of before he goes to sleep. There are so many things they never got to do or say and now they won’t have the chance for a long time. 

Something is in his hair. At first, he thinks it might be the flowers just wilting as Alex goes into hibernation, but whatever it is starts to move. He pulls off of Alex’s chest and sees Alex’s brown eyes staring at him, filled with confusion, and his fingers in Henry’s hair.

Without even trying to suppress it, Henry squeals and throws himself onto the counter and into Alex’s arms. Alex holds him close, their chests touching. Henry can feel Alex’s heart beat in tandem with his own––he can feel the life coming back to him. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” Henry sobs into his shoulder. 

“Impossible,” Alex replies, kissing his cheek.

Henry pulls back and wipes furiously at his eyes before he takes Alex’s face in his hands and kisses him senseless. Alex melts into the kiss and kisses him back with just as much passion, his hands holding onto Henry like he’s the only thing keeping him here. 

In this moment, they’re the only two beings that matter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, just on a personal note, I AM FINALLY GETTING THE HELP I NEED AND I AM SO FLIPPING EXCITED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!!!!!! Been a long-ass journey but we're almost there, folks! Woo! Mental health stuff!


	12. Whiskey, Words, and Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is scared of his inability to control his powers. Henry is ready to open up.

“We need to get off this counter,” Alex mumbles, his lips still on Henry’s, his hands holding onto Henry like he’s his fucking lifeline.

Henry laughs and Alex feels it reverberate through him––it feels like he’s fully waking up again. Pulling back, he runs the pads of his thumbs over Henry’s cheekbones, marveling at how fucking _beautiful_ he is. How beautiful he’s always been. And it makes his blood boil when he sees the kindness in Henry’s blue eyes, the undertones of hurt that still linger there from Matthew. Thorns start to grow from his wrists again and Alex shoves Henry off of him and hops down from the counter, not wanting to hurt him. 

This has never been a problem for him before––he’s never felt emotions strong or bad enough to trigger this sort of response. The flowers that grow in his hair are usually the extent of his lack of control and restraint, but tonight has been different. Tonight, he lost control completely and submitted to some hidden dark part of himself that he’s never experienced before. Now, in the aftermath, he still feels like he’s on fire. His hands are shaking, the thorns still growing from them. He closes his eyes in an attempt to get himself under control but, when he closes his eyes, all he sees is Matthew’s cruel, sharp smile and the way he tried to hurt Henry. The way he probably hurt Henry even before Alex arrived. 

“Alex,” Henry says, his voice soft and tender. 

Alex keeps his eyes clenched shut, his breathing ragged. Tears sting his eyes as he attempts to get his fucking powers under control. “Stay back,” he hisses, clenching his fists in an attempt to get the thorns to stop fucking growing. He doesn’t want to hurt Henry but, right now, he’s terrified that he might if Henry gets too close.

But Henry touches him anyway, his fingertips featherlight on Alex’s back. 

Somehow, that’s all it takes. The thorns retreat into Alex’s wrist like they were never even there to begin with. Slowly, he turns to face Henry. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to find in his eyes now––disgust? Fear? Horror? Maybe, now that the shock of everything has worn off, Henry will throw him out and not look back. Maybe he’ll see that Alex is nothing more than a foolish young god who has no control over himself––he’ll see that Alex doesn’t deserve him by any means. 

But when he looks into those familiar blue eyes, he just sees Henry there. Henry with his kindness, Henry with his beautiful, big heart. “You’re safe.” 

He chuckles wetly and buries his face in Henry’s shoulder, trying to compose himself. Henry’s arms hold him there by his waist, keeping him close. Keeping him safe and loved just like he always has. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” 

“I should have been here sooner,” he realizes helplessly.

“You _saved_ me, Alex,” Henry tells him, taking Alex’s face in his hands and staring into his eyes. “Don’t you know that? You bloody _saved_ me.”

“He still hurt you.”

“He could have,” Henry nods, “but you came in and saved me like the brilliant, selfless god you are.”

Alex bites his lip nervously, wheels still turning. “So you…you don’t hate me? Or think I’m,” he shrugs helplessly, “a freak?” 

Henry laughs, his eyes sparkling like a glistening stream. “A freak? Alex, you’ve been here for, what? Twenty two years?” 

He nods. 

“It took me ages to get my powers under control. It’s…hard. And I don’t have nearly enough power as you.” 

Alex cocks his head to the side––he’s never heard Henry mention any sort of power before. He knows that Henry is strong and might––he probably has to be to control an entire realm––and he knows that Henry has that scepter, but he’s never seen Henry do anything strange like Alex does. Nothing grows or changes when he gets emotional––nothing is ever out of place with him. “You have powers?” 

“Of course I do. I just…I never use them anymore.”

Alex threads their fingers together, staring up at him in awe. “Can I, uh, see them?” 

Henry smiles and leans down to kiss him. Alex melts into it, feeling stupid for not having seen earlier that Henry’s power was kissing––he’s really fucking good at it. 

But then Henry’s gone. The absence hits Alex like an uprooted tree. His breath hitches in his throat as he looks around in horror, wondering where Henry could have possibly have gotten to in such a short period of time. 

He hears something––it sounds like something’s tapping. He furrows his brow and follows the noise, finding Henry standing outside, peering into the kitchen, and tapping on the window with a dopey grin on his face. Alex laughs and rolls his eyes, going to open it. As soon as he gets it open, Henry’s gone again. 

There are hands on his waist from behind him, now. He turns and Henry has somehow reappeared. Alex turns to face him, feeling dazzled. 

“It used to happen a lot,” Henry laughs, “back when I didn’t know how to control it. I remember, the first time it happened, I was kissing a mortal and I got excited and just found myself in a field hundreds of meters away from him.” 

Alex laughs, picturing Henry just randomly popping up in a field somewhere and having no clue how he got there. 

“And there’s this, too,” Henry says. He reaches behind Alex’s ear and produces a diamond. 

Alex gapes at it. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Henry sets it in Alex’s palm, tucking his fingers around it. “I can conjure any riches,” he explains, “but I never have a need for them.” 

“You’re amazing,” Alex marvels, grinning like an idiot. 

“And you’ve seen my scepter,” Henry reminds him. “I’ve also got a helmet––it lets me be invisible.” Henry laughs like it’s funny.

Alex elbows him, jaw dropping. “You _dick_!” he exclaims. “You’ve had a fucking invisibility helmet this whole fucking time and you’ve never used it? Wouldn’t that make seeing each other so much fucking easier?” 

Henry pales, his laughter quickly fading. “Well,” he stammers, “I never said one of my powers was intelligence.” 

Alex laughs, leaning into Henry as laughter rumbles through him. Lightly, he runs his fingers down Henry’s chest. “How’d you learn to control them?” 

“Practice,” Henry sighs. “It was hard, at first. They grew with me as a child but then I couldn’t use them for a few months. When I could again, I had to learn everything all over again, only I didn’t have my parents there to help me anymore.” 

Could this be the moment where Henry tells him the truth about everything? Where Alex finally gets to hear about Henry’s life and the things he hasn’t wanted to talk about? He opens his mouth to ask but wonders if asking will just scare Henry off and make him close up. 

“Let’s get a drink,” Henry suggests, “and I’ll tell you about it.” 

Alex stares up at him. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, really.” 

Henry squeezes his hand. “When I almost lost you tonight, I realized that there’s so much I want to tell you. I was afraid I wouldn’t get the chance but, now…” 

Alex presses a kiss to his cheek and then snakes a hand around his waist. “Yeah,” he smiles, “let’s get a drink.” 

Like a puppy, Alex follows Henry into the living room area––which he’s never seen before. There are walls of books and a large, comfortable sofa in the middle of the room, and a stunning rug right under it. It’s got the same color palette as the rest of the house––blues and greys––and Alex wonders if this is really Henry’s style or if it’s just what he thought his house should look like since he’s down here in the Underworld. Sometimes, it’s hard for Alex to get a solid read on Henry. There’s a center to him that’s kind and soft and beautiful, but there are so many walls built up around that center, too. Sometimes, he wonders if he’ll be able to get to that center completely one day instead of just catching glimpses of it from time to time. 

There’s a silver bar cart in the corner of the room which is where Henry goes. Alex stands a bit behind him, trying not to get flustered when he sees Henry’s muscles flex and pop as he pulls open a bottle of something on the cart. 

Henry turns to him a moment later, two crystal glasses in his hands. “It’s whiskey,” he says, holding one out for Alex. “Good choice?” 

Alex nods and takes the drink, waiting to sip it until they’re seated and comfortable somewhere. Henry gestures to the sofa and Alex takes a seat on it, sighing happily when he sinks into it. It might be one of the softest fucking things he’s ever felt in his entire life.

Henry smiles at him and sits down next to him, their bodies coming together like magnets, their feet tangling together. Alex takes a sip of the whiskey, closing his eyes as he feels it warm him from the inside out. 

“You asked me, once, if gods could die.” 

Alex nods, remembering it well. 

“I’ve killed once in my whole life,” Henry tells him. “It was the darkest time of my life.” 

Alex finds one of his hands and squeezes it reassuringly.

Henry tells him about his childhood––how happy he, Bea, and Philip were. How their parents were kind and warm and gentle. Henry tells him about his cruel grandmother and how his parents tried to shield their children from her wrath and cruelty by hiding them in the secluded fields tucked between mountains, trying to give them a life of peace. Henry tells him about how his grandmother found them one day and slaughtered Henry’s parents in front of him while Bea and Philip were by the river. How, when his siblings returned, his grandmother tried to take Bea, too, and how Henry threw himself in front of her. 

“She swallowed me whole,” Henry tells him, his voice shaking, whiskey nearly gone. “For months, I stayed there. I couldn’t see and I couldn’t escape.” He shudders and Alex pulls him close, delicate fingers combing through his hair. “I thought I would die there but I…I wasn’t lucky enough to be afforded that privilege.” 

Alex’s heart breaks in his chest at the thought of Henry trapped there––helpless and young and scared, freshly traumatized and desperately alone. “ _Henry_ ,” he cries.

Henry shakes his head. “Philip freed me. Together, the three of us took care of my grandmother so she couldn’t hurt anyone again.” 

“Where is she now? The mortal realm?” 

“Here, in Tartarus. It was Philip’s idea––it’s the safest place for her. There’s no chance she’ll escape from there.” 

“He trapped you here with her after knowing what she did to you?”

“He didn’t trap me,” Henry counters. He sighs. “After we…after she was taken care of, we did a lottery. We wrote our names on parchment and put them in a bowl. First was the sea which, as you know, Bea got. Next was here which, much to my dismay, went to me.”

Something about this doesn’t sit right with him. He can’t quite explain why, but it makes his stomach churn uneasily. “Who drew the names?”

Henry thinks on it for a moment and takes a final sip of whiskey. “Philip, if memory serves.” Alex frowns and Henry must notice because that crease reappears between his brows. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It just seems convenient, doesn’t it? That he got the sky by default? That you got stuck here?” 

Henry shrugs. “I’ve never thought much of it.” He looks at the wall––at the clock there. His eyes widen. “Gods, you need to get home. It’s probably nearly dark up there.” 

Alex nods in agreement, still not quite sure about Philip’s intentions and motives. He doesn’t know much about Henry’s brother, but he knows that he doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him. But Henry seems okay with it and has made his peace with the decision, so Alex decides to drop it. He kisses Henry and they make their goodbyes, this time with Henry promising to start using his helmet to come visit Alex sooner than every two weeks. 

“You’d better,” Alex laughs, hugging him. “I want to do it in a field.” 

Henry laughs and kisses his curls before pulling back. “You’re a menace.”

Alex grins up at him, kisses him one last time, and heads back to the mortal realm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a hurricane raging outside but the only storm i care about is philip's impending wrath fifhfoihfh
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	13. The Eyes of My Lover are Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is tired.   
> Henry tries to help him control his powers.

Since Alex so kindly pointed out that the Helm of Darkness, the very thing that grants Henry invisibility, could be used to go to the mortal realm whenever he wanted instead of every two weeks, Henry decides to try it out. He thinks he can make Alex see him, even when he wears the helmet, because of the connection that binds their hearts together. So, when Henry has a free afternoon, he dawns the helmet and heads to the mortal realm. He wishes that he could communicate with Alex even when they’re not together but, unfortunately, the mortal realm hasn’t figured out the whole telephone system yet. So, unable to contact him, he hopes he’ll be able to find him in a field somewhere instead of having to go all the way to the cottage. Not only does he not want to risk running into Ellen, but he also doesn’t really know where the cottage even _is_. 

When he arrives in the mortal realm, the first thing he notices is the charred field. It’s one of Alex’s fields and it’s usually vibrant and beautiful, but it looks like someone’s set it aflame. The grass is dark and burnt and the flowers once here have long since succumbed to whatever fiery end they met. He frowns at the sight of it, wondering if this is the work of angry mortals or something. They get angry from time to time––even has their civilization advances, the anger always remains. If anything, their advancing technology only allows for more destruction during their angrier moments. 

he wanders through the fields for a bit, searching for Alex. There’s a ball of nerves in his stomach at the thought that the destruction of this field has made Alex grow weak––he knows that Alex is connected to this land. It’s _his_ land. It’s part of him. Henry knows first hand that a god’s land or realm can threaten his health––it happened to him in the beginning when he was first put in charge of the Underworld. 

Thankfully, he finds Alex sitting in a clearing, humming softly to himself as he lies in the grassy field, his skin kissed by sun and making him even more beautiful––Henry didn’t even know that was possible. 

He walks over and lies down next to Alex, leaning over and placing a kiss on his lips. 

Alex jolts, unable to see him, until Henry pulls away. One Henry kisses him, Alex’s eyes open wide as the helmet allows Alex to see him. 

“H?” Alex asks, his eyes searching Henry’s for something. His brown eyes have lost a bit of their sparkle, Henry notices, and there are bags under them. He looks positively exhausted. Henry frowns and cups Alex’s jaw in his hands, running his thumb over the sharp lines.

“ _Darling_ ,” he coos, “what happened to you?” 

Alex smiles softly and nuzzles into Henry’s touch––he’s a bit like a cat, Henry thinks. “Nothing, I’m fine.” 

“Alex,” Henry warns, waggling his eyebrows, “don’t lie to me, love.” 

Alex sighs and grabs a fistful of grass. “My field got set on fire a few days ago,” he explains. “I keep healing it but now, every night, it just goes up in flames again. It’s…draining.”

Henry nods in understanding, completely aware of the feeling Alex is talking about. It breaks his heart to see Alex so tired and defeated, and it breaks his heart even more to know that there are mortals out there that hate him enough to set fire to his fields. Subconsciously, he runs his fingers through Alex’s curls, always trying to be closer to him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Alex chews on his lip for a moment. “I, uh, was gonna ask if you’d help me with something, actually.” 

“Of course,” Henry agrees, “whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Alex smiles weakly. “I was thinking about what happened with…last time I was in the Underworld. And I thought that maybe I should see how my powers work––maybe I can start trying to control them?”

Henry grins, his heart bursting with pride. “That sounds like a brilliant idea. What can I do?” 

“Can you just sit across from me? You’ll be my target, if that’s cool. And if things go south, I need you to pull be back.” 

Henry nods, kisses his temple, and sits across from him. 

Alex takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes, his palms out and facing Henry. Slowly, small vines start to grow from his finger tips. The strands weave together to create a thicker vine that moves slowly across the space between them and wraps gently around Henry’s wrist. 

“What are you thinking about?” Henry inquires. 

“A sunny day,” Alex breathes, his eyes still closed as he focuses. “My fields rustling in a gentle breeze.” 

Henry nods. “Okay, so that’s a neutral thought, right? Can you think of a happy one?” 

Alex nods and red and purple tulips begin to spring from the vines, beautiful and healthy. The vines grow a bit, too, and start to wrap up Henry’s forearms. It’s still gentle and soft––it feels a bit like a hug. 

Henry smiles. “What are you thinking about now, love?” 

A smile creeps at the corner of Alex’s lips. “The first time we kissed,” he says softly, “and all the times after that. Just… _you_.” 

Henry feels like his heart might beat out of his chest. Gods, he’s completely taken by this god. 

“You’re so brilliant,” Henry encourages, “so strong and beautiful. You’re doing so well, love. Just work on bringing them back now, bring them back in like you did with the thorns when you protected me from Matthew.” 

Alex’s brows furrow and his face contorts in pain and anger. Suddenly, the vines darken and tighten around Henry’s body. The flowers shrink and are replaced with jagged thorns. Gods, Henry shouldn’t have brought up Matthew. Alex’s mind must have taken him back there––he must be controlling his power through anger and fear now instead of love. 

“Alex,” Henry warns, watching as the thorns continue to grow down the vines, slowly approaching him. “Alex, you need to come back to me.”

Alex grits his teeth and the thorns start growing faster. They dig into Henry’s flesh. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to bite back the pain of the thorns digging into his wrists and arms, drawing ichor from his flesh. “Alex, stop! You’re hurting me!”

Alex’s eyes snap open and the thorns instantly retreat back into his hands. He’s panting and wide-eyed as he attempts to catch his breath. Henry wipes the ichor on his chiton and makes his way over to Alex, hoping to make him see that he did a good job and that this will all just take some practice. When he reaches out for Alex’s shoulder, though, Alex flinches away. Henry crouches and sees tears in his eyes. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Alex wipes furiously at his eyes. “It’s not safe for you to be around me,” he says. “I need––I have to get them under control or I could hurt you again.” 

Henry is shaking his head before Alex finishes. He reaches out and sets a hand on Alex’s shoulder, not letting him shy away from his touch. “I’m a _god_ , Alex,” he reminds him. “You can’t hurt me––not permanently.” 

Alex tilts his head up, looking exhausted and sad and miserable. Henry’s heart clenches in his chest. “Promise?” 

Henry smiles softly, nods, and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. “I promise.”

The exercise takes a toll on Alex––he grows tired from overexerting himself. Henry feels foolish for letting Alex overwork himself right now when he already knew that he was tired and drained from his field being set on fire. He’s lacking so much energy that he’s not even growing flowers in his hair right now. 

“Do you want me to go?” Henry asks half an hour later. Alex’s head is in his lap and Henry cards his fingers through his curls, the two of them sitting in content silence as Alex struggles to not fall asleep. 

“Stay?” he pleads, voice so soft it’s barely there. 

Henry feels tears sting his eyes. “Yes,” he whispers, “okay.” 

Alex falls asleep like this, with Henry’s fingers combing through his hair. It’s good to see him rest, but it doesn’t take away any of Henry’s concerns for him. It’s not like there’s anything he can do to save his field, even though he wants to, so he’s just unable to do anything––resigned to watch Alex grow more exhausted as the mortals continue to burn his field to the ground. Distantly, Henry wonders if Ellen is aware of this. He figures that she must be, considering Alex is her son, but he also knows that Ellen would stop at nothing to protect Alex from harm so, if she’s aware, she must be planning on somehow getting the mortals to stop. If she _is_ planning something––some sort of act of wrath––then Henry will have to do his best to protect her from whatever punishment his brother will eagerly inflict. It will be no small feat, of course, but he would do absolutely anything to protect Alex and his family from harm. He’d tear his own world to the ground as long it meant that Alex was safe and okay and protected. 

Alex stirs in his lap, his brown eyes fluttering open. Even though he just napped, he still looks exhausted. He sits up and gently kisses Henry, his hands coming to rest at the back of Henry’s neck. Henry kisses him back and it’s soft and wonderful and he can’t even remember how miserable he was before he got to have this––before he knew how soft Alex’s lips are against his own and how his heart flutters every time he gets to see Alex smile or laugh. It’s a miracle that the Fates have brought them together and he just prays that they won’t take him away any time soon. 

“I should get back home,” Henry tells him, pulling away and resting their foreheads together. 

Alex nods and kisses Henry again––he still tastes floral and wonderful despite the drain on his powers. “I’ll miss you,” he whispers. 

Henry closes his eyes, trying to commit the smell and feeling of Alex to memory. “I’ll miss you, too. Terribly.” 

“I wish we were from the same realm,” Alex confesses. 

“I’m glad we’re not,” Henry counters. “The Underworld wouldn’t be good for you, love. You shine too brightly to live down there.” 

Alex hums and kisses him again. “I’ll come visit you soon, okay?”

“Don’t feel like you need to.” 

Alex pushes away from him a bit, eyes wide. “What? Do you…do you not want me to?” 

Henry sighs and rubs circles on Alex’s hips, feeling the soft material of the chiton there and the promise of his skin underneath it. “I do,” he assures him. “I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I’m not _obligated_ ,” Alex huffs. “I’m in––I really _like_ you, H. And I wanna be with you whenever I can. It sucks that we have to spend so much time apart.”

“I know. And I really like you, too. I know it’s miserable and a hassle, but you’ll always be worth it.” 

Alex scoffs. “Even when I go crazy and accidentally impale you with thorns?” 

“I’d hardly call it _impaling_ , but yes. Even then. _Always_ , Alex. You will _always_ be worth it to me.” 

Alex’s eyes sparkle and he surges forward to capture Henry’s lips in his own once more. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises. 

As Henry returns home, he wonders how much longer the world will allow them to do this. They tempt fate every time they meet––it’s a bloody miracle that Philip hasn’t caught on yet. Still, though, there’s hope and love blooming in his chest. If Alex is willing to keep coming to see him as often as his schedule allows, Henry figures that he should at least try and make the Underworld as welcoming for him as possible. So, as soon as he gets home, he calls his assistant and asks her to build a greenhouse in his backyard so that, when Alex is here, he can feel a bit more like he’s home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	14. Heartbreak in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's powers are fading. One night, he gets an unexpected visitor at his window.

The problem is that, even when Alex regrows his fields every morning, they’re always destroyed in the night. They go up in smoke without fail when the sky is dark and the stars twinkle above and there isn’t a damn thing he can do to stop it. Each time his fields are burnt like this, it takes a toll on him. He’s _connected_ to these fields––these fields are, in a way, Alex himself. When he’s sad, they grow lonely and dark. When he’s happy, big, fragrant flowers bloom in them. When he’s in love, they should reflect that, mood too. And he _is_ in love––he’s so in love with Henry that it hurts to be away from him and he aches to touch him and kiss him and just see him. And the fields should bloom with big, beautiful flowers that attract birds and butterflies and honey bees but, instead, they get set on fire every night.

In the beginning, he tries to regrow them from the charred damage. He goes out in the morning and heals them from their injuries but it doesn’t make much of a difference since they’ll just get set aflame when night comes. It drains him, too, to keep working on healing them like this. His powers aren’t strong enough or refined enough to handle rebuilding from such devastation every single day. It’s draining when they get set on fire but it’s even worse when he tries to fix them so, instead of fixing them, he does nothing.

The exhaustion setting into his bones is noticeable enough for everyone around him to grow concerned. His mother thinks he’s caught some sort of illness until, that is, she sees the complete devastation one day when she’s out tending to her own lands. When she returns home, she looks horrified.

“Alex,” she says, sitting across from him at the table where he begrudgingly tries to eat a piece of bread even though his stomach refuses most things currently.

He looks up at her––he’s sure he has bags under his eyes. He’s too tired to speak.

“What happened to your fields, sugar?”

He shrugs and bitterly swallows a chunk of bread, praying for it to stay down so he can get some energy back. He knows that he needs the energy to keep the field Henry comes to visit him at up and running. It’s the one field he intends on healing because, if Henry comes and sees that one charred and dead, he’ll know that something’s wrong. And, knowing himself, Alex knows that he won’t be able to lie if Henry asks him about it––he’ll tell him the truth about how Philip’s been after him for a while now and that setting his fields on fire every single night seems to be his newest form of retaliation. The last thing Alex wants to do is cause problems between Henry and his brother––family comes first and, especially when it’s Henry and his family, any sort of fight could lead to an all-out war. Best to avoid it if he can.

“You look like you’re sick,” his mom points out, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Just tired,” he manages to mumble.

His mom frowns at him, clearly not buying it. “Do you need––”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he snaps, already feeling the toll of such an outburst settle into his already aching bones. “Just…leave me alone.”

He huffs and retreats to his room before she can say much else. When he gets upstairs, he slams his door and throws himself down on his bed, exhausted and sweaty. It feels like he has a fever––it feels like he’s _dying_. It’s terrible and he’s miserable and he hates this because he just wants to be okay again. He wants to be able to wander out into the fields for hours a time and not feel tired at all. He wants to be able to go to the Underworld and see Henry but, unfortunately, he just lacks the strength to go anywhere right now, especially on such a long journey. It’s the worst he’s ever felt. It’s even worse than when Philip struck him with a lightning bolt––it’s worse than when he turned Matthew into a mint plant. It feels like his body is on fire and that nothing will help and that, one day, he’ll wake up and be turned into ash.

He looks over at his window and sees that the plants he’s put there over the years have all wilted. It makes his heart clench painfully in his chest to see that the destruction to his fields isn’t just hurting his ability to make new plants grow but, now, it’s killing the plants he’s already made. He rolls away from the window, unable to stand the sight of his wilted plants, and hugs a pillow to his chest. He’s the god of Spring––plants are the one thing he’s good at. Henry likes him for the flowers that grow on his head and for the life that usually bubbles up from within him––what happens when Henry finds out that he’s been rendered completely useless?

He must fall asleep because he wakes up to light tapping on his window. He rolls back over to face it and sees that the sky has darkened––he must have slept for hours, then, but he doesn’t feel at all refreshed.

Cautiously, he goes over to the window and sees no one there. He starts to turn around again when another tap comes. He whips his head back to look at the window once more and sees a rock hit it––a tiny, shiny stone. He unlatches the window and pulls it open, looking down at the grass below and expecting to see June or Nora standing there to call him for a late night dip in the river or something. Instead, though, he sees nothing.

“Hello?” he calls down, too tired to deal with this. Another rock comes and hits him in the shoulder. “I’m not in the mood, Nora,” he grumbles, going to close the window.

“It’s me,” a deep, familiar voice calls.

He looks down again and sees Henry appear, his helmet in his hands and hovering above his head. Normally, the sight of Henry would make him gleeful and fill with warmth and it sort of does right now, but it also makes him panic because he really doesn’t want Henry to find out what’s been going on.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks him, trying to hide the exhaustion in his voice.

“I’m here to see you, of course,” Henry beams. “Care to fashion a vine or something to get me up there?”

Alex’s body sags with the thought of exerting so much energy. “Why don’t you just do your teleporting thing?”

“Philip would feel it,” he replies, shaking his head.

Alex sighs and extends his hand, closing his eyes and focusing on his powers. Normally, it’s a warm feeling in his stomach that he just has to fan into a flame but, currently, that warmth has gone cold. With a shaky breath, he stumbles to find it again, knowing that this will be the last thing he’ll be able to do for a while. He opens his eyes and sees a vine grow from the ground and curl up to his window, providing a good improvised ladder for Henry to climb to get up to his window. Henry puts his helmet back on, turning invisible again, and Alex moves away from the window to give him space. As soon as he takes a step backward, his head starts swimming and the edges of his vision blur––he shouldn’t have used his powers like this.

He doesn’t even realize he’s passed out until he feels cold hands gentle on his face. He opens his eyes and blinks until the world comes back into focus, seeing Henry above him, his blue eyes dark and concerned.

“ _Alex_ ,” Henry gasps, brushing sweaty curls off of Alex’s forehead, “are you alright?”

Alex nods and tries to sit up but his head starts swimming again. Henry curses under his breath and goes to help him, gliding one arm under Alex’s back and helping him into a seated position. Alex feels too weak to sit on his own so he leans against Henry, happy when Henry’s arms come around him and rub his back lightly.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and breathing in Henry’s scent.

“You’re not fine,” Henry says. There’s a bit of anger in his voice––it makes Alex feel terribly guilty. “Your fields are wilted and the plants by the window are, too. Even the crowns in my room have turned brittle and dry. Alex, darling, _please_ tell me what’s going on.”

Maybe, if Alex had more strength, he would be able to lie. Maybe he could come up with some sort of semi-believable excuse to make Henry feel a bit better. As it stands, though, he’s far too exhausted to make anything up. “Philip’s pissed off,” Alex admits.

Henry pushes back, his hands braced on Alex’s shoulders as he looks at him with wide, terrified eyes. “What? Why?”

Alex tries to avert his gaze––he can’t bring himself to look at Henry right now. “I think he knows I’ve been seeing you,” he chuckles miserably. “He’s been setting my fields on fire every night.”

“Alex––”

“And that ‘stupid accident’ I had?” Alex says, unable to stop now that the truth is flowing freely from his lips. “That was him, too. I got struck by lightning.”

He doesn’t know what to expect. Maybe he thinks Henry will yell or cry or kiss it all away but, instead, Henry just stares at him, his mouth open slightly as his eyes search Alex’s for some kind of answer. It’s quiet for a moment while Henry processes this––the silence makes that cold feeling in Alex’s stomach worse.

“It’s okay,” Alex says, trying to break the silence, his hand reaching out and settling on Henry’s jaw. “It’s okay, H, I promise. I can take it.”

Henry shakes his head and moves away from him. “No,” he says, “it’s not worth it.”

Alex gapes at him. “ _What_? Of course it’s worth it. I––”

Suddenly, Henry is getting to his feet, his helmet tucked under one arm as he shakes his head. “It’s not worth it,” he repeats. “I––I can just find someone else to sleep with.”

It feels like a knife has just gone straight through Alex’s heart. “That’s all we are?” he asks, his voice a broken whisper, the words bitter in his mouth and throat. “Just…fuck buddies?”

“What else would we be?” Henry asks. “I don’t––I don’t want to see you again, Alex. It’s not bloody _worth_ all the trouble.”

Alex stares up at him, hot tears forming in his eyes.

Henry looks away. “ _You’re_ not worth it.” He starts to make his way back to the window, not turning around to meet Alex’s eyes. “Don’t bother coming to see me again,” he says, holding the helmet above his head, “you’re no longer welcome in the Underworld.”

Before Alex has a chance to say anything else, Henry’s invisible again.

Alex’s lip trembles as he stares at the spot where Henry once stood. He doesn’t know what just happened but the feeling in his heart is unshakeable. It feels like his heart has been ripped into a million pieces––it feels _worse_ than Philip setting his fields on fire. It feels worse than anything he’s ever felt before because, he realizes, this whole time he’s been falling in love with Henry and, for Henry, he’s been nothing more than a good lay. Something to make his days a little more interesting. Something new and exciting to keep for a while, but not forever. This, he realizes, is what heartbreak feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...oops!!!!!!
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)!!!!


	15. I Miss You

The moment Henry puts the Helm of Darkness on, standing by the window of Alex’s room, Alex starts sobbing. His body curls into itself on the floor as he holds his head in his hands, his chest heaving as sobs wrack his body. It breaks Henry’s heart to see it but there’s nothing he can do, even though he longs to reach out, pull Alex into his arms, and comfort him. His fingers twitch, aching to run delicately through Alex’s curls as he holds Alex’s head in his lap until the sobs subside. Instead, he bites down his own tears and turns to the window, taking a deep breath before he descends down the vine ladder Alex made for him.

The heartache makes each step heavy and painful as he returns to the Underworld, wishing that, just this _once_ , Philip could fuck the fuck off. He can handle Philip’s anger directed at him but, when it comes to Alex’s safety, he won’t risk it. Alex is too important––too beautiful, too _lively_ ––to lose any of the light he brings with him everywhere he goes. It’s been centuries of Henry being beaten down by Philip’s taunts, comments, and harassment, but this strikes too close to home. This is Henry’s _heart_ ––Alex has his heart completely and, because of Philip, Henry’s lost that, too.

The entire way home, he just replays the breakup in his head. Christ, he said such cruel things, didn’t he? At first, he finds himself hoping that, one day, Alex will forgive him but, a moment later, he realizes that it doesn’t actually _matter_ if Alex forgives him. It doesn’t matter if Alex forgives him because he knows that, even if Philip stops actively attacking him, they’ll never be able to be together. The Fated themselves made Philip the ruler of them all––the King of all gods. Even if Henry wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to challenge his brother for the crown. With the Fates on Philip’s side, Henry doesn’t stand a chance. So, as long as Philip is the rightful ruler of the gods, Alex will have to stay an entire realm away from Henry.

The thought of losing Alex forever makes Henry feel sick. It makes his body feel like every nerve is being set on fire in a bad way––it makes him feel like he’ll never be able to get out of bed again.

So, for a few days, he doesn’t.

The problem with being an immortal god is that this sort of pain––the pain of knowing that he’ll never be able to see Alex again––isn’t something that will be short-lived. It’s a pain that will follow him, quite literally, _forever_. And, despite the nymphs and mortals he’s been with briefly over the years, he’s never been able to actually _be_ with someone before. Alex is the love of his life and the only person he’s ever wanted like this. They have so much in common, they complement each other so well, and he and Alex could have been something real. They’re both immortal––their lives could have worked out together. Logically, Henry knows that it might just be wishful thinking, especially because their lives are in two completely different realms, but he also thinks that they could have made it work. Henry would have found a way if it meant that they could be happy and _together_.

When he returns to his home, he goes straight to the greenhouse he had built for Alex––the greenhouse Alex will never see or use. It’s a tall, glass room off the back of his house, complete with empty planters hanging from the ceiling. David follows him and, when Henry sits down in the middle of the room on the barren floor, David crawls into his lap and reaches up to kiss his chin in an effort to make him feel better. Instead of getting back to any of the work he should likely do, he sits on the floor of the empty greenhouse for hours, petting David and imagining what the future could have been like if Alex were still in his life. It’s a much happier one than the one sprawled out before him––it’s one with kisses and gentle touches and happiness unlike anything Henry’s ever felt before. It’s a future he’ll never have.

He looks around the empty space for a moment then closes his eyes, his palms up and resting on his bent knees. Summoning all his strength and tapping into a feeling he hasn’t used in years, he wills his powers to the forefront of his mind, focusing on the glinting, enchanting nature of Alex’s eyes and his sparkling smile. With his hands he traces every curve of Alex’s body and the mess of curls on his head, knowing each line of him like the back of his own hand. When he opens his eyes, a diamond statue of his love stands before him, smiling and with a crown of amaranth on his head.

***

“Darling,” Pez sighs a week later, dropping dramatically next to Henry as he remains curled up in his bed just as he has done every day for the past week. “You need to get out of bed.”

Henry shakes his head and pulls the blanket up higher so he can’t see Pez anymore.

“It’s not good for you, Hen,” Pez tells him, rubbing his foot gently through the blanket. “You’re missing work and I doubt you’ve eaten much of anything unless I force-feed it to you.”

“I don’t want to move,” he grumbles in reply.

“I know, but you have to. You’ll get sores if you don’t.”

Henry grumbles and lowers the blanket a bit. “I miss him. Terribly.”

Pez’s mouth turns up softly in the corners and his eyes soften. It’s probably the worst he’s ever seen Henry––worse than any other breakup, certainly. “I know,” he whispers, brushing sweaty, greasy hair back off of Henry’s forehead.

“I wish I could fight Philip,” Henry sighs.

Pez’s eyes widen. “Why don’t you? Challenge him for the crown.”

“The Fates chose him,” Henry reminds him, “and, at any rate, I’d make a rubbish king.”

“But you’d have Alex,” Pez says, waggling his eyebrows.

Henry rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket back up.

It’s a nice thought but, as he knows all too well, there’s no chance he would ever actually beat Philip out if he decided to challenge him. Unlike Philip, Henry does _not_ , it seems, have the Fates on his side. He wouldn’t want Philip’s position anyway, though––he just wants _Alex_. If he had Alex, he’d never want anything again.

“It’s easier this way,” Henry sighs.

Pez huffs, likely to stifle a laugh. “Right,” he says, “because both of you being miserable is so much better and a lot easier than just being together.”

Henry sits up a bit, his eyes widening. “He’s miserable? How do you know?”

“I see him all the time,” Pez reminds him, “for the whole delivery business I’ve got going on?”

Henry nods. “Could you, erm, I mean, since you’ll be there anyway…”

“You want me to keep an eye on him?”

Helplessly, he nods. “He’s not doing well. I’d just like to know someone’s looking out for him.”

Pez smiles, leans down, and presses a kiss to Henry’s forehead. “Of course, darling.”

With a contented sigh, Henry lets his best friend hold him, even though he still feels like he’s falling apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short and took so long! One of the keys on my keyboard has decided to relocate elsewhere ohfoihfoifh
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/)


	16. House Arrest

Alex is…well, Alex is completely miserable. It’s only been a week since Henry left him crying on the floor of his bedroom, his heart in a million, shattered pieces strewn haphazardly on the floor. It’s been an entire week since he last saw the blues of Henry’s eyes, since he last felt the calm, reassuring pressure of Henry’s lips against his own, and a week since he last got to smell Henry’s sweet, vanilla scent. The pain of missing Henry––that ache always present inside of him––is terrible, certainly, but not quite unbearable as the heartache and confusion he feels about how everything went down.

Through everything––stolen kisses, lingering touches, breathless moans, shared smiles––Alex never would have suspected that, after everything, he meant _nothing_ to Henry. It makes his stomach churn to think about how alone he is now and, especially, how alone he supposes he’s _always_ been. To Henry, Alex is nothing. To Henry, Alex is nothing more than a good lay but, of course, not good enough that he wishes to continue with whatever it is they’ve been doing all this time.

So, Alex lets himself be completely miserable. He doesn’t even try to feign excitement or try to seem okay anymore––he mopes around the house, remaining indoors most of the time, and complains to June and Nora about his stupid broken heart and how miserable his life is without Henry in it. Part of his complaining is really just him trying to figure out what hurts the most in this shitty situation because, truly, he really doesn’t know. Part of him thinks that the sting of Henry not liking him in the same way he did Henry is the worst part of this because it means he wasted time and energy on someone that couldn’t care less about him. The other part of him, though, the part that’s bleeding and aching and feels like it might just continue to feel that way forever, thinks that the worst part is that Henry just…isn’t a part of his life anymore. Even knowing everything he knows about how Henry truly feels about him, he _still_ yearns for Henry to be a force in his life. He would take him in even the smallest capacity––he would take just the hint of his smile, even if it wasn’t for him.

Fuck, Alex is so stupidly, desperately, helplessly _in love_ with him.

And Henry, a whole realm away, is completely fucking indifferent.

So, Alex wears his heart on his sleeve. His eyes are often red and wet, even if he hasn’t actively been crying, and his body is so weak that he decides to spend most of his days in bed. June and Nora come by every so often to bring him herbal teas, water, and food that he doesn’t touch. His stomach is sour and in knots––he’s sure his body would reject any food at this point.

One day, his mom is the one who brings him a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. He’s sweating in his bed, somehow freezing despite the beads of sweat pooling on his sheets around him, when she knocks on the door and comes in without waiting for him to say anything about it. As soon as she steps into his room, her brow furrows in concern, her eyes wide in shock. June and Nora have been keeping her out of his room for the most part––since she’s still completely unaware of what’s really been going on. It’s been nice to not have to deal with lying to her but, now, she’s crouching down next to Alex and putting a hand to his sweaty forehead.

“Sugar,” she sighs, her voice soft and gentle, “you’re burning up.”

He groans a bit in response, not capable of much else.

Her frown depends as she sets the tray of soup and bread aside, setting it next to the collection of mostly-full cups and mugs from the past few days on his bedside table. Gently, she sits on the edge of his bed, the mattress creaking as she adjusts.

“It’s your fields, isn’t it?” she asks, voice so quiet it’s barely audible.

He nods, swallowing a heavy, dry lump in his throat. He doesn’t want to lie to her––not again.

She brushes sweaty curls back from his forehead and he nuzzles into the touch, so happy to feel her warmth. He’s freezing now but he’s sure he’ll feel overheated in a moment––that’s the fun of fevers.

“Why do the villagers keep doing this to you?”

And, just like that, it’s out in the open. There’s an opportunity for him here––an opportunity to tell her the truth about why his fields are burning and why he’s so miserable emotionally and physically. She’ll be upset with him, of course, because he went behind her back, lied to her, broke her rules, and put himself in danger. She might even ground him which, given his current state, doesn’t seem like the end of the world. It probably means he won’t be able to go to the Harvest Festival with her in a few days but, then again, he doubts he’d be able to make the journey like this. The thing is that he really _wants_ to be honest with her. He hates lying to her––their relationship is built on trust, not lies. This is the biggest secret he’s ever kept from her and, frankly, the heavy guilt of it is eating him up inside.

If he tells her the truth, will she still love him the same as she did before? Will she still think of him as her son who was born of clay all those years ago, the boy who grew to be reckless and stupid but loving all the same? The son who was worth her time and energy? The one who could, one day, be capable of some kind of greatness?

“Mom,” he croaks, making his decision, “it’s not the villagers.”

Her hand freezes on his forehead, her brow raised in confusion. “Then who is it, sugar?”

He looks up into her eyes––those familiar eyes that have held so many emotions for him overtime: anger, love, frustration, amusement. They were probably the first eyes he ever saw––the first sight this world had for him. Really, given this, he should know how to read them now. He should know their moods––what each twinkle means, what each blink could represent. But now, looking into her eyes, he doesn’t know what he sees there or what he _will_ see when he tells her the truth. And it’s absolutely horrifying.

“It’s Philip,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper.

Just like that, the truth is out there.

The room is eerily silent for a moment. All he can hear is his own, raspy breaths and the slight breeze coming in from his open window. And, for a horrifying moment, he’s worried that everything has to change now. His mind supplies hazy images of her kicking him out and making him fend for himself out in the world with Philip still hellbent on making his life a living hell.

“Philip?” she asks, sounding more confused than angry or upset.

He nods.

“Philip like the King of the gods?”

He nods again.

He bites her lip, brow creased. “Why would Philip be after you? You haven’t even met him.”

He takes a grounding breath. “I was sort of, um, seeing his brother.”

Her eyes widen. “You were…seeing Henry? King of the Underworld Henry?”

He nods.

She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it again, choosing to just look at him like he sprouted another head instead.

“Okay,” she says after a moment, straightening her posture and clearing her throat, folding her hands in her lap. It’s all very business-like. Alex hates it. “So, let me get this straight. You were seeing Henry, the King of the Underworld, one of the three most powerful beings, and his brother found out. Not only did his brother find out but, in his anger, he started setting fire to your fields.”

“Yeah,” Alex manages, “that’s right.”

“And,” she continues, “despite this, you and Henry are _still_ seeing each other?”

“No,” he snaps, wincing a bit at his own defensiveness. “He, um, broke it off after he found out about the Philip thing.”

She presses her lips together for a moment as she takes in his words. “But he’s still coming after you?”

He nods again.

“Okay,” she says, slowly, “so here’s what we’re gonna do, sugar. I’m not going to lie––I’m upset that you didn’t tell me. And I’m upset that you put yourself at risk like this. But, all that aside, we have to deal with what’s going on _now_. And what’s happening _now_ is that you have the most powerful being in all of the realms coming after you. So, given that information, I don’t think it’s smart for you to leave the house.”

Alex opens his mouth to protest but she raises a hand, silencing him.

“It’s to keep you safe more than anything,” she says. “I’ll have one of the nymphs bring you food and water but you won’t be joining us to the Harvest Festival and you won’t be allowed to leave the house. The only way we can keep you safe is by keeping you under this roof. Philip can’t just walk in through the front door.”

So, that’s how it goes. Ellen, Leo, Nora, and June all say their goodbyes and head off the Harvest Festival, leaving Alex alone and miserable in his bedroom with the promise of food and drink every few hours. He knows that it’s for the best and that this will keep him safe, but something still feels _wrong_. When he goes to bed the first night on his own, he can’t help but feel that something is about to change––that he’s not as safe as everyone believed.

The last thing he remembers is drifting off to sleep that night, smelling the fragrant smell of a nearby campfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that––I'm still here! Mwahaha
> 
> Sorry for not updating in so long––life has been a lil hectic (but good hectic so that's something!!)
> 
> As always, come check out [my tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/) to scream at me :)


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